Deceiving Grace
by Constance1
Summary: On the eve of their graduation, Harry and Draco are arrested for murder. What follows will be an unforgettable story of love and forgiveness told through the eyes of the one who lived it. Slash. Complete.
1. Prologue

They say there are certain events in your life that you'll never forget; your first kiss, falling in love, getting married, starting a family - these events make up the stories of our lives. I always thought love stories were the most memorable. They can be poignant, sad, beautiful, or heart wrenching – they evoke an emotion or a feeling in everyone. It doesn't matter if the stories were told and then forgotten, what matters is that they touched someone at some point in time. And for the people who lived them, they will remain unforgettable...

My name is Harry Potter, and this is my story.


	2. The Last Night of the World Part 1

_The day my life changed forever was exactly two years ago today. It was the night before our leaving ceremony, and Dumbledore had invited all the seventh year students to the Great Hall for one last party with our fellow classmates. It was to be a night to remember. If I only knew how true that statement was going to turn out to be. My life took its sudden u-turn with the utterance of seven simple words..._

"Hey, Potter! Come here for a minute."

I turn to see Draco Malfoy lounging against the side of the castle, one foot braced against the grey stones. I immediately tighten my grip on my Firebolt and narrow my eyes suspiciously.

We have been secretly working together with Dumbledore and the Order since sixth year, and although we are by no means what you would call friends, we have reached a sort of understanding – we only speak to each other when necessary, and only at meetings.

He's breaking the rules.

"What do you want?" I call back, carefully keeping my distance and glancing around for any other wandering students.

Malfoy rolls his eyes in irritation. "Just get over here, will you? I promise not to taint your precious Gryffindor virtue."

Against my better judgement I walk over to my old rival and stand expectantly in front of him. Malfoy glances briefly at my broom before leaning back against the school wall and staring up at the gathering clouds above.

"Out for one last nostalgic flight?" he asks briefly.

"Yeah, so?" I reply, challenging, waiting for the sharp barb that was sure to come next.

"So nothing." Malfoy shrugs, eyes still roving the dark grey sky.

I sigh and shift my weight impatiently. "What did you want, Malfoy?"

He finally looks back to me and one corner of his mouth curls up, eyes gleaming. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," I reply warily, feeling as though I'm treading on very shaky ground.

"It is a time honoured tradition in my family to leave a lasting impression on this school in some way before departing. Although I have decided against certain _other_ traditions, I must admit I have the desire to follow in my ancestor's footsteps in this case. I am proposing a prank, one last escapade before we must leave childhood behind forever and join this fucking war that will age us faster than time."

"I don't understand." I frown uncertainly. "What do you need _me_ for?"

Malfoy pushes away from the wall and stands directly in front of me, staring intently. "I have decided that you need to break away from your daily routine of sickening goody-two shoes behaviour and have a little fun."

"You don't think that I've ever broken the rules?"

Malfoy waves his hand dismissively. "I'm not talking about stink bombs or putting earwigs in someone's dinner, what I'm proposing is much bigger. Traditionally this prank must land someone in the infirmary."

"That's it, I'm leaving." I clutch my broom to my side and make to leave.

"Potter." Malfoy grabs the end of my broom handle to stop me from walking away. "Just listen to me for once, all right?"

"I'm not going to intentionally injure someone," I snap.

"Stop being such a prat. Any good hex can land a person in the infirmary, it doesn't have to be Cruciatus or even remotely life threatening."

"Then what exactly?"

Malfoy relinquishes his grip on my broom and once again strikes a pose of casual indifference as he leans against the school. "Fire Fever."

Despite my annoyance with the haughty blond, my curiosity is definitely piqued. "And what exactly is Fire Fever?"

Malfoy smirks, relishing the fact that he now has my full attention. "Fire Fever is a powder. It has no smell, no taste, and its bright red colour disappears immediately after administration. You slip it into any drink then sit back and watch the after effects."

"Which are?"

Malfoy grins maliciously. "Only a few minutes after ingestion the victim will feel an itchy, burning sensation just beneath the skin. The feeling grows until it consumes the entire body. No matter how much you scratch or how much ice you use, the feeling cannot be abated. The person must suffer until it runs its course."

"That's sick."

Malfoy seems almost pleased with my pronouncement. "I know," he drawls. "I concocted it myself."

"Figures," I mutter.

"Don't worry so much, Potter. It's not that painful, more like...uncomfortable."

I abandon all hope of escaping anytime soon and decide to lean back against the wall next to Malfoy, dropping my Firebolt to the ground beside me. "Even though I still think that you're a sick bastard, that powder seems a little tame. The Weasley twins would probably sell it in their shop."

Malfoy's eyes dim a little. "I thought you said that you wouldn't agree to anything too extreme?"

"And I won't, only...I don't know. Watching someone scratch at themselves for twenty minutes isn't all that memorable."

Malfoy's eyes immediately gleam with mischief, his confidence restored. " This may be true, but watching the entire seventh year class scratch at themselves uselessly for twenty minutes would be _quite_ the spectacle. I believe most people might even shed their clothes to try and relieve the burning."

I can't help it – I snort with laughter at the mental picture. Now _that_ would be something to remember.

Malfoy smiles smugly.

"But why me?" I ask, quickly recovering. "Why not do this with one of your Slytherin friends? Or why even tell me at all? I would've thought that I would be among the people you would most like to see make a fool of themselves tonight."

Malfoy's expression closes and his voice is cool. "If you haven't noticed, I do not have any friends in Slytherin. I only pretend to like them for the Order's sake. I want to see them 'make fools of themselves', as you call it, more than anyone else. They are all future Death Eaters, Potter, let's not try to sugar coat the truth. As for seeing you make a fool of yourself, well, you're right, I would've liked to be spectator to that sight, but...what's the fun of watching your evil handiwork alone? Plus, what I said earlier is true – you do need to break away and have a laugh, Potter. You're much too serious for your age."

"Maybe that has something to do with having a raving lunatic after me for seven years of my life," I answer bitterly, knowing that he probably wouldn't understand.

"And my father's a Death Eater and Voldemort's right-hand man - so what? I don't know about you, but I'm not wasting my life away worrying about the future." He pauses thoughtfully, his tone quietly reflective as he continues. "If you keep thinking about tomorrow, Potter, one day you'll find that all you have left are a bunch of piled up yesterdays."

Malfoy's statement hits me hard. Is that what I've been doing most of my life? Living for tomorrow instead of the here and now? Had I shut myself off from living instead of relishing each day as a gift and being grateful for at least that much?

"Who knew you could be so profound?" I say in way of trying to lighten the mood and not show him how much his words affected me.

He shrugs and looks away, and somehow I think he knows. "So are you in?" he asks.

I glance up as the rain begins to fall, the early morning fog dissipating with the sudden downpour. The grounds become a hazy world awash in green and grey. A blurry painting of colours and memories all tied into one; swimming in the lake, warm comforting talks in Hagrid's cabin, Quidditch, infamous trips into the Forbidden Forest, lazy days of studying in the sunshine and dozing on the grass. This is my last day here, my last official school day at Hogwarts, the only home I've ever craved or ever wanted and it's coming to an end. Why not go out with a bang?

"I'm in."


	3. The Last Night of the World Part 2

The party was already in full swing when I arrived later that night. I had spent the rest of the day worrying over what I had just agreed to do, and therefore was rather late in getting ready.

I edge into the Great Hall and automatically search the crowd for Ron and Hermione. I spot them talking with a few other Gryffindors and am about to walk towards them when a hand clamps down hard on my shoulder.

I don't even have time to turn around before I'm dragged back out into the Entrance Hall.

"Malfoy!" I whirl around angrily and glare at the boy.

"What the hell took you so long?" he demands in a hushed voice. "I know it couldn't have been the care you put into your appearance because you look like-"

"Can we please skip the obligatory insults?" I sigh, rubbing my shoulder. "Let's just get this over with."

Malfoy stands back and eyes me in amusement. "Feeling a little nervous now, are we, Potter? Ooo...crossing over to the dark side has you shaking in your boots?"

"Oh, shut up." I glance back into the Hall. "Where are all the professors?"

Malfoy comes to stand beside me. "There are only a few on duty tonight, just the heads of houses, really."

I nod and scan for my friends again. They're still laughing and talking with the rest of my house. "Looks a little segregated to me," I note, taking in the clumps of students each keeping to their own house.

"What? Did you expect everyone to get all chummy all of the sudden just because it's the last night we have to see any of these people again?"

"Why not?" I ask, evenly.

"You are so naïve, Potter." Malfoy rolls his eyes as if I'm some child he's too tired to deal with.

"Look, can we just do this already?" I demand impatiently, not wanting to get into a whole prejudice debate with him. I know enough about Malfoy to realise that some things will never change; his mind will never open up to the possibility that maybe a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin _could_ be friends, or the real mind blower – would _want_ to be friends.

"Fine by me." Malfoy reaches into his pocket and withdraws two small, silk pouches. He hands the black one over to me and keeps the deep purple for himself.

"There's enough in here for everyone?" I ask sceptically, weighing the small bag in my hand.

"And then some," Malfoy replies with a smirk. "You take the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, and I'll take the Slytherins and Ravenclaws."

"Okay." I manage to keep the apprehensive tremble out of my voice as I slip the pouch into my cloak pocket. "How much should I put in?"

"Just a pinch into everyone's goblet should do it." Malfoy watches me suspiciously. "You're not going to bail on me, are you?"

"No." I straighten my shoulders indignantly and return his gaze. "I'll go in first."

Malfoy smiles in approval as he watches me stride back into the noisy Hall with determination. He waits a minute then follows suit.

I try to avoid Hermione's eye as she glances towards the doors, obviously waiting for me to appear. As quickly and discreetly as possible, I add a pinch of Fire Fever powder to each and every filled goblet on the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, smiling and nodding in greeting to people as I pass. Nobody is really paying any attention, so caught up in their conversations and celebrating. A wave of relief washes over me as I finish and I tuck the silk pouch back into my pocket. I stroll nonchalantly over to my friends and smile in greeting.

"Where've you been, mate?" Ron asks, looking a little hyper. "We're about to eat."

"Sorry," I apologise, not quite meeting his eyes. "I was running late."

"Can you believe it's our last night here?" asks Dean, shaking his head.

I hear a sniffle to my right and am surprised to see tears in Hermione's eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask, quietly.

"Oh, Harry," she says in a wobbly voice, "I don't want to leave. I'm not ready to go yet."

I smile and give her a comforting hug. "Me either."

She pulls back and looks up into my face with sudden gravity.

"What is it?" I ask, frowning.

She pulls me a few steps away from the group. "Promise me you'll be careful, Harry."

"What are you-?"

"This war - it's really happening, you know."

I give her a puzzled smile. "Of course it is."

"Just...just promise me you'll be careful."

I suddenly feel the urge to cry myself as she stares pleadingly into my eyes. I pull her to me and hold her tightly. "I promise. I won't let you down, I won't let anyone down. I _will_ defeat him, 'Mione. I swear."

She nods into my shoulder and squeezes me back.

I look over her head and spot Malfoy watching us with interest. He notices my look and winks, his hand slipping something back into his cloak. The powder.

The prank is set.

"Come on you two, it's time to eat!"

Hermione and I split apart, feeling a little sheepish for getting so emotional, and follow the rest of our house over to the tables to sit down.

"Everything okay?" Ron asks quietly, as we settle into our seats.

"Everything's fine," I assure him, glancing at Hermione, who looks a little more in control now.

I watch as the table is suddenly piled high with every type of dish imaginable. Everyone's favourite food is bound to be included in this feast, whether it be pizza or caviar. I spot a tempting roasted chicken and immediately begin filling my plate.

"Looks like they pulled out all the stops," Seamus comments, his eyes round as he looks over the sumptuous buffet.

"What's Professor Dumbledore eating?" Neville asks around a mouthful of potatoes.

We all look up and watch as the headmaster digs into what looks like a giant banana split. I take a quick survey of the head table and notice with relief that only Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick are present.

My stomach gives a sudden lurch as I remember the prank. I tune out the chatter around me and suddenly all I can see are the shining gold goblets twinkling in the torchlight on every table. I don't know whether to laugh hysterically or throw-up.

I refrain from drinking from my own goblet and can only watch as my fellow classmates drink up around me. From the corner of my eye I catch Hermione reaching for her pumpkin juice and I can't do it, I can't let her drink it.

I quickly reach out and knock over her goblet. She cries out and jumps back from the spreading puddle of orange liquid.

"Sorry." I take out my wand and hastily clean up the mess.

"It's okay," Hermione says, giving me a look as she conjures up another goblet and fills it with fresh (powder-free), pumpkin juice.

While Ron is turned to his other side, I quickly grab his goblet and dump it out under the table, refill it with fresh juice and set it back on the table.

I sigh with relief and the knot in my stomach has eased a little bit as I go back to eating my dinner.

Ten minutes later, I'm biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Students everywhere are pulling at their clothes and scratching at their skin in irritation.

Five minutes more and I don't bother trying to keep it in anymore. Students are running everywhere, it's mass pandemonium and I can't help but laugh at their antics. The professors still in the Hall are trying to calm them down. I put my head down on the table, laughing so hard my stomach hurts as tiny professor Flitwick is run down by a thundering Ravenclaw.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaims in disbelief. "How can you laugh at a time like this? This could be the work of You-Know-Who!"

I only laugh harder and pound my fist on the table, actual tears leaking from my eyes.

Hermione frowns at me in concern then rushes off to try and help the professors. Ron can only sit frozen in utter shock.

I lift my head and peer through the crowd towards the Slytherin table. I double up with laughter again as I catch sight of Malfoy casually feasting on some roasted pheasant while watching the scene around him with an air of indifference. He catches my eye and raises a brow as if to say, 'see? It _was_ a good idea.'

I smile and nod in agreement, my stomach still aching with laughter.

Across from me Neville suddenly rips off his robe and runs from the Hall, shrieking at the top of his lungs.

I stand hesitantly and glance back to Malfoy. He nods and sets down his fork.

The two of us run from the Hall and follow Neville as he pushes through the entrance doors and out into the twilit grounds. Neville's pale skin is gleaming in the dark and we track him easily as he heads for the lake.

Malfoy and I stop near the shore and watch as Neville splashes into the water and plops down into the shallow depths, only his head visible above the dark lapping waves.

I snort and Malfoy claps a hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Follow me," he whispers.

We leave Neville alone and trek across the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin. His windows are dark and we feel safe enough to sit down on the front stoop without being disturbed.

"That was fucking brilliant." I grin, still picturing Neville running naked across the grounds.

Malfoy gives me a strange look.

"What?"

"You just swore, and are actually happy about something that caused other people embarrassment and pain."

"You said that it wasn't painful!" I accuse, suddenly feeling as if I've been duped.

"Calm down." Malfoy turns away with a roll of his eyes. "It's not _that_ painful," he mutters under his breath.

"It better not have been," I grumble darkly.

"Speaking of deceit." He suddenly turns back to me. "I happened to notice that your two best pals didn't seem to be affected."

"Oh, well..." I bite my lip guiltily.

"I was looking forward to seeing Weasel-bee making a right prat of himself."

"Yeah, well...I couldn't do it. They're my friends."

"I did it to_ my_ friends."

"I thought you didn't have any friends?"

"Oh, shut up."

We sit in silence and I can just make out the pale form of Neville making his way back to the castle in the distance. The clouds are still thick and heavy in the sky above us and it feels as if it's going to rain some more before the night is over.

"So what are you doing after you leave Hogwarts?" I ask, trying to lighten the tension, and also because I'm curious.

"Are we going to do the small talk thing now?" Malfoy asks, patronizingly.

"Do you always have to act like the world's against you?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Do you?"

Malfoy almost smiles as he nods in acknowledgement. "Fine, you really want to know?" He stands and jumps off the steps to the muddy ground below. "I'm going to be a spy in this bloody war, just like ol' Snape, then, if I'm not dead by the end of it, I'm going to put up shop and sit around in the lap of luxury for the rest of my life."

"And if we lose the war?"

"Well, as soon as it looks like we're going to end up with the short end of the wand, I'm going to humbly return to the fold and denounce Dumbledore outright."

"You're serious, aren't you?" I ask after a pause.

Malfoy is opening his mouth to reply when suddenly a bright flash of green light erupts from within the Forbidden Forest and momentarily blinds us.

"What the hell?" I leap to my feet and withdraw my wand with great speed.

The only answer I receive is the eerie silence of the shadowy Forest. I charge forward and begin sprinting towards the Forest's edge as fast as I can.

"Are you crazy, Potter?" Malfoy shouts behind me as I take off.

"Someone's used Avada Kedavra!" I yell over my shoulder. "We can probably still catch them."

"Fuck," Malfoy exclaims under his breath as he glances back at the school then chases after me.

I am surprised when I see Malfoy come up beside me as I enter the Forest, but I refrain from comment as I focus on finding the location of the curse.

We walk quickly and as quietly as possible, pushing through the damp leaves and bushes, the mud squelching slickly under our feet. I expect Malfoy to complain but he appears to be as focused and as worried as I am.

It only takes five minutes of walking before we come upon the body. It's all alone, with no sign of anyone else nearby.

We approach it cautiously, wands at the ready.

"Lumos." Malfoy lights his wand and lowers the beam to the unmoving figure lying on the ground.

I gasp and Malfoy drops his wand to the earth, the light now casting a glow on the victim's face as it shines directly into those familiar coal-black eyes; wide open and lifeless.

It's Professor Snape.


	4. The Last Night of the World Part 3

"Potter! Potter!"

Dimly I realise that someone is calling my name. I blink and turn to Malfoy, who is pale and urgent as he grabs me by the shoulder and brings me back to reality. The reality of a dead body lying in front of me, of Snape lying _dead _in front of me...

"Potter, come on! We have to get Dumbledore!"

I nod, my eyes returning to the macabre picture at my feet. Oddly, I notice that there are two dead birds lying beside Snape's body. It's as if every tiny detail is suddenly magnified ten-fold; the colour of the leaves on the ground, the smell of the wet forest around me, the absolute and utter silence...

"Damn it, Potter, snap out of it!" Malfoy shouts into my face. "It's not like you haven't seen a dead body before."

I turn my head sharply and shove Malfoy away from me. "Don't you ever say that to me again." I turn on my heel and start pushing my way back through the forest, my anger now stronger than my fear. I hear Malfoy running behind me and I ignore him as we blindly weave our way through bushes and sharp hanging branches.

"Why don't you give us some light, Potter?" Malfoy growls through gritted teeth, stumbling over yet another tree root.

I lift my wand without stopping and hold it out in front of me. "Lumos."

Nothing.

Now I come to a complete standstill and stare at my wand in confusion. "Lumos."

"This is no time for games, Potter."

I lift my wand to my eyes, squinting as I try to see clearly in the dark. Something's not right; I can feel it. I can't feel any connection to my wand, it's as if...

"This isn't my wand," I announce in realisation.

"What?" Malfoy sidles closer and looks at the foreign wand in my hand as if he could recognise it better than myself. "Then whose is it?"

"No idea." I feel defenceless without my wand, and in a way I guess that's true. "Just use yours for now and we'll sort this out later."

Malfoy hesitates and glances over his shoulder.

"What?" I sigh in irritation.

"I left it back with...there. I left it back there," he finally admits.

"Well there's no time to go back now, you can get it later." I start forward once more.

"That's stupid."

"What?"

"A murderer, most likely You-Know-Who, is probably nearby and you want the two of us to walk blindly through the Forbidden Forest without any protection at all?"

"You really want us to walk all the way back again? Damn it, we're wasting time!" I feel panicked now; I need someone else to know about this, preferably Dumbledore.

"It'll only take a minute."

So that's how I suddenly find myself traipsing back through the Forest with Malfoy leading the way. We finally reach the...Snape, and Malfoy drops to his knees to search for his wand in the dark. I carefully avoid looking at the black figure lying in the mud.

"Wait a minute." I frown. "Didn't you leave your wand lit?"

Malfoy rocks back on his heels and stares up at me, his grey eyes widening. "Yeah...yeah, I did."

"Shit."

Malfoy jumps to his feet and unintentionally stands close to me as we try to pierce the pitch black around us.

My heart is beating rapidly in my chest and I swallow convulsively. "Why would somebody take your wand?" I whisper.

"I dunno." Malfoy licks his lips and exhales shakily. "Maybe you should try that one again." He nods towards the strange wand clenched in my hand.

"Good idea." I raise the wand and once again try to get it to work. Malfoy is still vainly searching the surrounding area with narrowed eyes as I become more and more frustrated with the unresponsive piece of wood.

A sudden blast of white light explodes all around us and the entire enclosure is suddenly lit up. A dozen robed figures descend upon us, wands drawn, and cautiously advance.

I raise a hand to shield my eyes at the sudden intrusion of too-bright light. I peek through the cracks in my fingers and recognise a familiar face with relief.

"Dumbledore!" I exclaim, feeling the panic ebb out and a sense of security wash over me.

"Harry." Dumbledore rushes towards me but is stopped when another one of the robed figures suddenly cries out.

"Albus, look!"

Everyone, including Malfoy and myself, turn to stare at Snape's lifeless body.

I hear a sharp intake of breath from the headmaster. A few of the other wizards stride forward to check Snape's body.

Dumbledore doesn't move. "What happened here, boys?" he asks quietly.

"We found him like this," I explain. "We saw a flash of green light and...And we just found him here."

"And we left to get help, but I dropped my wand, so we went back to get it and it was gone," Draco added hurriedly. "But we didn't see anyone."

"Your wand is missing, Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore asks, still in that same quiet tone.

"Yes, and Potter's, too."

"You also lost your wand?" Dumbledore inquires, eyes sliding back to my face.

"I guess, I mean...somebody stole it, I think. I had it when I went to the Great Hall and then when I came out here it was gone."

"What is that in your hand?"

I look down and that strange wand is still in my hand. "This one was in my pocket but it's not mine."

"May I see it?" Dumbledore holds out his hand and I gladly drop the thing into his palm. It feels wrong to hold a wand that is not my own, like it's contaminated or something. "Hmm..."

I watch as the other wizards, some of them Aurors that I've seen before and some I recognise to be part of the Ministry Squad, levitate Snape's body and conjure a black body bag and a stretcher. I watch as the bag is sealed over Snape's face, finally hiding those wide black eyes. Accusing eyes.

I shudder and turn away. "How did you know we were in here, sir?"

Dumbledore is still inspecting the wand, turning it over and over in his hand. "Hagrid was awakened by the light and alerted me. I in turn alerted the proper officials and we immediately trekked in here to find the source of the disturbance," he answers distractedly.

I nod, my eyes straying to the levitating stretcher as they lead it away.

One of the Aurors approaches Dumbledore, glancing at me before speaking to the headmaster. "It was Avada, sir. No doubt about it." Again he glances my way. "We'll search the area thoroughly."

"Yes, do." Dumbledore nods and lifts the wand once more to eye level. "Priori Incantatem."

A wisp of smoke emits from the wand and drifts together to form a tiny shield, hovering in the air just above Dumbledore's hand. A small crease appears between the headmaster's eyes as he surveys the floating shape.

"Deletrius." Dumbledore lowers the wand as the smoky shield evaporates into thin air. He turns back to the two of us and I've never seen him look as grave as he does right now. "Harry, where did you say that you got this wand?"

"I-in my pocket," I stutter nervously, that feeling of panic returning full force.

"Did you know that this is Professor Snape's wand?"

"What?" I gasp, my eyes widening. "How is that possible?"

Dumbledore shakes his head and turns away as one of the members of the Ministry Law Enforcement Squad pulls him aside to speak with him.

I glance at Malfoy and he stares blankly back. I notice that he's drumming his fingers nervously on his thigh, watching, and waiting.

More wizards have joined the headmaster, glancing every so often at the two of us standing all by ourselves. I wish that Hagrid had come with the headmaster; he would've made me feel a lot better about this whole situation. It feels as though Malfoy and I are being scrutinised, and not in a friendly way at all. I don't understand. I haven't done anything wrong. _We_ haven't done anything wrong.

"What do you think they're talking about?" I whisper aside to Malfoy.

"Isn't it obvious, Potter?" Malfoy snaps, but it lacks his usual bite. "They think we did it."

I shake my head. "Dumbledore would never believe that," I say with confidence.

"Wake up, Golden Boy," Malfoy sneers. "Take a look at the old man's face, does it look like he thinks we're innocent?"

The headmaster's face is drawn and grave, no friendly twinkle, no smile hovering at the corners of his mouth, and that fatherly expression he usually wears when speaking or looking at me is noticeably absent.

"Of course he isn't going to look happy," I whisper back. "A man just died."

Malfoy says nothing and we return to waiting in uneasy silence.

Finally the headmaster breaks away from the group and walks toward us.

Why do I suddenly feel like I don't want to know what he has to say?

I glance again at Malfoy and it looks as though the blond is holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, boys," Dumbledore begins seriously. "There's nothing I can do. For now."

"What?" My mouth is dry as I stare back at him. "What are you talking about? We didn't do anything."

And suddenly four Ministry Squad members are beside us.

"Harry James Potter, you are under arrest for suspicion of murder.

I stare wildly at Dumbledore, silently pleading with him to tell me that this is all a joke. That this can't really be happening.

"-You will be taken into custody and held until further notice."

My hands are trembling as one of the robed wizards steps forward and locks my wrists into a pair of cold, steel handcuffs. I'm too scared to make a noise, my brain is numb, my body is numb, and I feel as though I'm about to pass out.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are under arrest for suspicion of murder. You will be taken into custody and held until further notice."

Beside me, Draco is being given the same treatment. Only he isn't going quietly.

"This is outrageous!" he shouts. "You don't have any proof!"

"It's all right, boys," Dumbledore is saying. "I'm coming with you, we'll work all this out."

My knees are weak as they slowly begin to push me ahead of them out of the forest. I can see half of the seventh years standing on the school steps – watching our procession as we emerge onto the moonlit grounds.

"Where are we going?" Malfoy demands of his captor.

"The Floo Network in your headmaster's office," the guard replies evenly.

"But _where_ are we going?"

I glance back as the guard answers, a cold smirk curling his lips.

"The Woodward Correctional Institute."

It's then that I do pass out.


	5. Grace

It is now the third day of a nightmare that began on the eve of my seventh year leaving celebration. The name of this hell is the Woodward Correctional Institute. It's a holding facility for wizards whose trials are being dragged through the proverbial wheels of justice, a place teetering on the edge of Azkaban and freedom. Here you wait for the inevitable.

Some men have been here for years. Depending on your crime, it can take a lifetime for your case to be brought before the Wizengamot. They call it a blessing that we're allowed this grace period, so that's what the inmates have affectionately taken to calling this place – Grace. It seems everything here has a nickname; the inmates, the guards, even the bloody rats have names. Personally, I've taken to calling this place judicial purgatory.

Grace is a hypocritical name for a place as filthy and disgusting as this. They say it's better than the alternative, but at least in Azkaban you aren't conscious of your surroundings. You don't see the flea-infested mats laid out on the floor, stinking of piss and sweat, taste the dirt in the very air you breathe, experience a fear so tangible that it penetrates every pore in your body, or hear the muffled cries of pain and torture echoing up from the bowels of this stone cage. Here they squeeze as many prisoners as possible into one cell until you can't remember the sound of your own breathing, your lungs pressed upon with the weight of five other men taking up all available oxygen, their dirty bodies recycling the air back out into the cramped space and diluting your airways with their disease. I see it contained in every revolting drop of sweat that beads on their brows and drops to the floor, soaking into the very bloodstream of Grace. Every tear, every drop of sweat or blood becomes a part of this place, until it pulses with the life force of a thousand past convicts and surrounds you with the stench of guilt.

Thankfully, Malfoy and I are by far the youngest wizards in here, and this morning they reluctantly allowed us to move to a private cell.

Though I don't know how long it will last.

The men who work here are soulless, with no conscience to speak of. They detest every single prisoner in here, and are no more impressed by my celebrity than Malfoy is. Everyone here is on equal ground. Everyone here is a potential target for the sadistic guards and for the more brutal and twisted inmates. No one here is safe, and no one gets preferential treatment, even if your name happens to be Harry Potter.

Today Malfoy and I are unexpectedly led into a small visitor's room and sat at a metal table across from our ex-headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore!" I exclaim in relief.

Dumbledore searches our faces intently as the guards retreat from our side and move to stand by the door.

"How are you boys doing?" He asks anxiously, his gaze moving between us.

"How do you think?" Malfoy snaps.

"What's going on?" I quickly interject. "We have no idea what's happening on the outside at all."

"There is a group of officials still scouring the Forbidden Forest. They haven't turned up anything as of yet, but I know they will not give up until they do. A few Auror friends have joined them and will be helping out, along with two very determined Gryffindors."

"Ron and Hermione," I breathe, giving the first thought to my two best friends in days. "How are they?"

"Never mind that," Malfoy interrupts. "What's going to happen now?"

Dumbledore leans forward and speaks seriously. "The reason I'm here today is because the Wizengamot has called a preliminary hearing for the two of you, scheduled for three o'clock."

"T-today?" I swallow nervously, memories of my last court appearance still fresh in my mind.

"Yes."

"What's this hearing for?" Malfoy asks, a picture of cool composure.

"It's for the court to decide whether or not it's viable for them to keep you locked up with so little evidence at hand."

"Good." Malfoy nods.

"Will _you_ be there, sir?" I ask, trying to calm my nerves.

"Yes, as will Hagrid, who'll be a witness."

Malfoy snorts dismissively even as I suddenly perk up at the mention of my half giant friend.

"Hagrid? Did he see something that will help us?"

"He didn't actually _see _anything, but he did say that he heard voices outside his door only seconds before the flash."

"That was us!" I exclaim in excitement.

Dumbledore raises his eyes to the two guards and addresses them. "Could you give us a few minutes alone please?"

They glance at each other and depart with a stern look in our direction.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore begins in a hushed voice once they are gone. "I don't think it would be a good idea for you to tell them of your work for the Order."

"I wasn't going to," Malfoy says, looking slightly taken aback.

"Good. I just don't want you to jeopardise your place in Voldemort's inner circle, and consequently your life, if you don't need to."

"I agree." Malfoy nods. "He would be after me the minute I stepped out of here if he knew I had been spying."

"Harry." Dumbledore turns to me. "There's also something I wish for you to keep secret from the Ministry. Do you know what it is I am speaking of?"

The Prophecy "Yes..." I answer uncertainly. "But why?"

"Because although it might help your case with Fudge and the rest of the Wizengamot, it would also leak out into the press and therefore to Voldemort, and that is the last thing you or I want."

"I understand." I nod, an unspoken promise in my eyes.

Malfoy glances at me curiously.

"Good." Dumbledore smiles encouragingly at us. "It's time to go, are you ready?"

I stumble to my feet and watch in trepidation as the two guards re-enter our room with a pair of handcuffs in each hand. I refuse to appear frightened in front of Malfoy and force my hands to remain steady as they lock the heavy steel around my wrists.

I blindly follow Malfoy and his accompanying guard as we are led through the dark corridors of Grace. I don't know where Dumbledore disappeared to, but I already miss his comforting presence.

Finally we are led into the courtroom.

This is a different courtroom from the Ministry one; it's smaller and only has a few benches afforded to the Wizengamot and other officials. I immediately look around for Hagrid or Dumbledore and expel my breath in relief as I see both of them sitting to one side. The usual two chairs with the chains attached to them are noticeably absent, there's only a single bench placed in the middle which Malfoy and I are immediately led to and placed upon. I wish the guards had unlocked our handcuffs as I struggle to find a comfortable position. Malfoy is remarkably calm and collected beside me, and I find myself envious of his Slytherin nerves of steel.

A man I do not recognise stands in front of us and begins to speak. "We are all here today to decide whether or not these two boys should remain in the Institute's custody while the Ministry and its officials are still in the process of gathering evidence. I understand that we have a few witnesses to see here today, so let's get started, shall we? Dumbledore, are you speaking on behalf of the defendants?"

Dumbledore rises and moves to stand before us. "Yes."

"Very well, let us begin." The man sits back down on his seat and opens a sheaf of documents before him, flipping to the first page. "I believe you have a witness for us, Albus?"

Dumbledore smiles and motions for Hagrid to step forward. Hagrid jumps to his feet in a hurry, squashing a furry hat nervously between his hands as he steps forward. I try to catch his eye and send him a reassuring smile, but Hagrid is as jittery as I feel and looks a little awed in front of the entire Wizengamot.

"Rubeus Hagrid?" The man inquires, putting on a pair of glasses and squinting up at him, not looking in the least intimidated by his size.

"Yes, sir." Hagrid nods immediately, his hands still crushing his brown hat into an unrecognizable shape.

"And what have you to tell the court?"

Hagrid finally glances my way and I can see him visibly relax when he sees me. He turns back to face the court and straightens up, his hands ceasing their perpetual fiddling. "I heard them boys outside my door that nigh' only seconds before the green flash."

The man nods and scrawls some notes on his paper.

I search the dimly lit benches in front of me, trying to see if Fudge is sitting somewhere amongst the group. I wish someone would tell us who this man is.

"Now, Hagrid." He looks up again, his beady eyes narrowing. "Were you asleep when you heard these voices?"

"Nah, just dozing, sir."

"I heard from more than one source that you were quite intoxicated that night Mr. Hagrid."

I almost groan aloud upon hearing this.

"Well, I...er..." Hagrid glances helplessly at Dumbledore.

"Mr. Kaplan," Dumbledore intercedes. "Hagrid was quite lucid when he summoned me from the school that night. He remembers the events quite clearly."

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but I can not in good conscience take the word of someone who was intoxicated during the events of the night in question. He might have only imagined that he heard voices, or it might not have even been these boys that he heard. I'm afraid it's not enough to go on."

I bite my tongue to keep from crying out in anger as Hagrid is forced, red-faced with shame, to step down and walk back to his seat.

Dumbledore also looks quite unhappy about the proceedings. "Mr. Kaplan, even if you do dismiss Hagrid's claims, there is still the fact that you have nothing to go on but circumstantial evidence to convict these two boys. Neither of them have done anything wrong in their lives thus far. They have no records with which you can justify these heinous actions with."

"Harry Potter has been brought before the court before, has he not, Albus?"

"Yes, and he was acquitted of all charges. He was innocent then, just as he is now."

Mr. Kaplan shuffles his papers for a moment then looks up. He beckons to someone in the back of the room to come forward.

"I would like to call upon the courts' witness - Mr. Malcolm Baddock."

Malfoy inhales sharply and spins around to stare as a boy I recognise to be one of the seventh year Slytherins calmly walks forward and stands before the court.

Dumbledore frowns slightly and glances at us before returning his attention back to Malcolm.

"Mr. Baddock, is it true that you had quite a nasty experience the night of the Hogwarts leaving party?"

"Yes, that's true," Malcolm answers solemnly, his ice blue eyes wide with feigned innocence.

"Shit." I hear Malfoy swear under his breath.

"Can you please describe to the court what happened to you that night?"

"Yes." Malcolm nods. "I was sitting with my fellow Slytherin friends at our table, enjoying the feast together, when suddenly everyone started acting funny."

"What do you mean, 'acting funny'?"

"Well, sir, the students began to feel itchy, as if their skin was on fire."

"Including yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go on."

"People started running around and I even threw off my cloak it was hurting so much."

"It was painful?"

"Yes, sir – very."

I open my mouth to deny that blatant lie but Malfoy anticipates me and elbows me sharply in the ribs.

" Shut up, Potter," he hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't say anything."

"And then what happened?" Mr. Kaplan prompts.

Malcolm turns to look at me. "As I stood in the middle of the mass confusion, I happened to notice that Mr. Potter and his two best friends were unaffected, and not only that, Mr. Potter was also laughing."

"Laughing?" Mr. Kaplan repeats loudly, turning towards me.

I stare back at him with my mouth agape, not knowing what to say in my defence because it was all true, even though he had exaggerated it greatly.

Dumbledore has an unreadable expression on his face as I glance to him for support.

"Do you believe that Mr. Potter was the one to infect the students with this cruel spell?"

"Yes, it was definitely him."

Mr. Kaplan fixes me with his beady eyes. "Do you deny this, Mr. Potter?"

My throat is suddenly dry and I look again to Dumbledore for some kind of support or indication of what I should do. He simply stares back at me, leaving me to fend for myself.

I suddenly feel angry and will not be silenced by Malfoy's elbow this time.

"What does this have to do with Snape's murder?" I demand.

Mr. Kaplan smiles, apparently pleased by my outburst. "Mr. Potter, this proves that you are a person capable of inflicting pain onto others, as well as taking joy in it. Forgive me, but are those not traits also found in murderers?"

"What?" I exclaim angrily. "This is ridiculous! It was just some stupid prank, and no matter what _he_ says, it was not painful!"

" Nevertheless, Mr. Potter, it tells us enough about your character to lawfully keep you here as one of the suspects in this particular case."

"It was just a prank!" I shout in annoyance. "I didn't murder Snape!"

"Harry, be quiet," Dumbledore orders sharply, then turns back to Mr. Kaplan. "Be that as it may, you still have no proof that Mr. Malfoy was involved in any way."

Mr Kaplan raises a brow and glances disdainfully towards Malfoy. "Yes, well, Albus I am sure that you are aware of the boy's parentage and that Severus Snape was the main witness in securing Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment in Azkaban."

I glance at Malfoy and I can practically see the anger bubbling beneath the surface and raging in his usually guarded eyes.

"Now be reasonable," Dumbledore starts in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Albus, but both of these boys had motives and we have proved that they both have the disposition and character to commit a crime."

"I play a joke and you think I'm capable of murder?" I cry out, heedless of Dumbledore's warning glare.

"Mr. Potter, you are also proving yourself to be quite volatile. I suggest you calm down."

"I didn't kill anybody!" I yell, jumping to my feet.

"Security." Mr. Kaplan jerks his head at the Ministry guard standing by the door.

"This isn't fair!" I exclaim as the guard grabs me by the handcuffs and attempts to lead me from the room.

"Stop it, Harry, you're only making it worse," Dumbledore says to me as I struggle against the guard's grip.

I want to cry at the utter unfairness of it all. My shoulders droop in defeat as I reluctantly allow the guard to walk me from the courtroom.

I almost can't believe the events of the last hour, it feels like some kind of dream - or nightmare. I want to kick and scream as I am roughly shoved back into my cell. The shackles are removed and I am left alone once again.

I huddle on my mat and bury my head in my knees. I am too exhausted and angry to cry as I rock back and forth, trying to forget that I am sitting in prison - a cold, dank and dark prison.

Malfoy soon joins me and I actually feel slightly better when he is here. Misery really does love company.

"Did they say anything else?" I ask wearily, lifting my head.

Malfoy glares down at me as he rubs his wrists; raw from the heavy metal handcuffs. "You need to learn to control yourself, Potter."

"What was I supposed to do?" I snap. "Let them spew all that bullshit about me and just take it? Let them convict me of _murder_?"

"This isn't the real trial yet, Potter," Malfoy snaps back. "You're only providing them with more ammunition."

"Stop acting so superior. This is all your fault, you know."

"_My_ fault?"

"Yes, that stupid prank was your idea."

"It was your idea to run headlong into the Forest without telling anyone first."

"You're the one who made us go back for your wand."

"It was your idea to run outside in the first place!"

"Was not!"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter. It's your fault we're still in this mess. If you hadn't exploded in there -"

"It wouldn't have mattered, they were going to keep us here no matter what happened."

"No thanks to your stupid friend."

"Hey, don't blame Hagrid, it's not his fault!"

"That he's a drunk? Oh, no, that's not his fault at all."

"He is _not_ a drunk!"

"Hey!" We both turn and see one of the guards standing outside our cell door. "Keep it down or I'll be forced to separate you."

Malfoy and I glance at each other then avert our gaze to the floor.

"That's your first warning." The guard replaces his wand back in his belt and strolls away.

I lie down on my mat and turn my back to Malfoy. I can hear my blond cellmate do the same on his side, and I close my eyes, suddenly feeling more drained and tired than I've ever felt before.

We might hate each other, but not enough to want to be alone in here.


	6. Hard Truths and Easy Lies

I eye the cloudy grey sky above me in annoyance, wrapping my arms tightly around my body in a futile attempt at warmth. The prison yard is scattered with inmates, all standing in huddled clumps or off by themselves in lonely figures of isolation. I glance to my right at Malfoy. He is leaning against the stone wall, in much the same pose as when he first told me of his brilliant plan back at Hogwarts only three weeks ago, the brilliant plan that landed us in here in the first place. He is trying to appear aloof and uncaring, but I can see the minute shivering of his body and the firmly clenched hands at his side.

Again we do not wander too far from each other. Just as he is my only link to familiarity, I am also his.

"What the fuck are you staring at, Potter?"

This doesn't mean that he's going to be nice to me, though.

I roll my eyes and avert my gaze back out across the barren grounds. "I was just noticing that you looked a little cold, _Malfoy_." I sneer his name with derision.

"Of course I'm cold, you idiot. We are provided with these disgustingly thin, _grey_, robes, and the weather suddenly decides to skip summer and move directly into fall. And in case you hadn't noticed, grey is _not_ my colour." Malfoy sighs dramatically as he picks at a loose thread on the offending garment. Even in prison, he is a vain, poncey git.

"Did I actually just hear you complain about the colour of our _prison _uniforms?"

Malfoy finally turns toward me. "And?"

"Never mind." I shake my head as a wry smile pulls at my lips.

"Is Dumbledore coming today?" Malfoy abruptly changes topics.

"I don't think so," I answer slowly. "But I have a meeting scheduled with Professor Lupin later." I smile inwardly at the thought.

"Bloody werewolf," Malfoy mutters.

"What?" I demand sharply.

"You heard me."

"Yeah, but why say it? You don't know him like I do."

"I know that you being friends with a werewolf is not going to look good to the Ministry, and that makes us _both_ look bad."

"Do you ever think about anyone besides yourself, Malfoy?"

"Oh no, I never think about anyone else's well being," Malfoy drawls sarcastically then quickly lowers his voice. "I'm only a fucking spy for the good of _your_ side."

"It's your side too," I remind him.

Apparently he has no ready made answer for that one and turns away.

I rub my hands together and blow on them to try to ease the chill settling into my bones. Even my toes are beginning to feel numb.

"I have a sneaking suspicion they adjust the temperature in here to make us feel even more miserable," I think aloud.

Malfoy nods, his gaze glued on two inmates far off in the distance standing together by the tall, magically warded fence. "Just don't come looking to me for warmth."

"Huh?" I frown in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you know what goes on in these prisons, Potter?" He whispers conspiratorially, leaning towards me.

"No! Should I?"

Malfoy sighs at my naïve ignorance. "Queers."

"What?"

"Men who-"

"I bloody know what it means, Malfoy!" I snap.

"Isn't it revolting?" Malfoy continues, a look of hatred crossing his features as he gestures to the other inmates. "Men buggering other men right here in this building, right next to our cell even, in the showers..."

I remain quiet, my temper silently flaring.

"I mean, doesn't it piss you off that we have to be in the company of these fucking queers?"

"Stop calling them that."

"Why?" Malfoy looks surprised.

"Because it's rude and...derogatory."

"Ooo...big word, Potter. Don't you know that it's practically against the law to be a shirt lifter?"

"Of course I know that," I reply irritably. "That doesn't automatically make it sick or wrong. In some Muggle countries it's quite common."

"Well if Mud-bloods do it then it really _must_ be wrong."

I have the strongest urge to reach out and slap his pale condescending face. "Do you make it your life's mission to try to offend every person out there who's not in the same class as you?"

"My class is the_ only_ class, Potter." Malfoy speaks as though he's echoing his father.

All thoughts of the uncomfortable cold seeping into my body are now gone, my anger and defensiveness fuelling the rising heat of emotions. I turn to face him. "Don't you believe that love is love and that no matter who it's between it's always right and just?"

"No, I don't," he replies evenly. "That's not the way it's supposed to be. It's abnormal."

"Says who - your father?" I push.

Malfoy presses his lips together and glares. "Don't try to make this into something it's not, Potter. This isn't about..." He trails off, a dawning look of comprehension filling his eyes. "_You're_ a queer!"

"I told you to stop using that word!"

"You are, aren't you?" Malfoy looks thoroughly stunned.

"That's none of your business," I mumble, evading the question.

Malfoy lets out a sudden bark of laughter. "I can't believe The-Boy-Who-Lived is queer!" he crows.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy!" I hiss, his cry drawing attention from the others. "And I never said I was."

Malfoy continues to snicker as my cheeks flame hotly.

I quickly turn away from him and run towards the doors back inside. I cannot go further than the small room just inside the building as we are supposed to be getting our two hours of 'fresh air time' for another twenty minutes.

I throw myself into one of the cold metal chairs and close my eyes. The musty smell of Grace once again invades my nostrils as I breathe deeply to try and calm myself. The muffled sound of prison activity surrounds me and I have to fight the urge to cry.

The fact that I let my most guarded secret out to my enemy of all people is eating away at me. Not even Ron and Hermione know that I'm gay, not even Dumbledore. Nobody knows but me. And now, through my own stupidity, _Malfoy_ knows.

I pull my knees up onto the small chair with difficulty and bury my face in them, fingers clutching my messy tangle of windblown hair.

I discovered that I was gay only last year. It was a slow realisation, there was no sudden moment of clarity or burst of bright light, it was more like a gradual acceptance of the fact that women just didn't do it for me and men did - no matter how hard I tried to deny it.

Then I found out that being gay in the wizarding world is almost worse than in the Muggle world. _No one_ tolerates it here. There is no acceptance, no leeway, and no compassion of any sort. It still exists of course, but very heavily secreted and hidden away from society. They can't arrest you for it, but they will make the rest your life a living hell, unless some crazed homophobe takes it upon himself to end your life a little early. Gay bashing is not all that uncommon. Society tends to turn a blind eye towards it. In this respect the wizarding world is moving backwards instead of forward.

I hope I can convince Malfoy to keep my secret for me.

I let out a half laugh, half sob at that ludicrous thought. Imagine Malfoy actually helping me just because I ask him too.

I lift my head and stare up at the clock. I cannot wait until my meeting with Remus. The thought of his visit is the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart right now.

"Harry." Remus stands instantly and his lips stretch into a wide welcoming grin as I am led inside the visitor's room.

"Remus!" I run straight into his open arms and bury my face in his chest, arms clinging tightly to his lean body.

"Harry? Harry, is something wrong?" Remus is immediately concerned and begins to stroke my hair soothingly.

I pull back and look up at him. "You mean besides the fact that I'm in prison?" I ask humourlessly.

Remus' brow furrows in obvious concern. "Why don't we sit and talk?"

I lower myself into the metal chair with a weary sigh and clasp my hands together in my lap. I'm not even sure where to begin. "How are Ron and Hermione?" I decide to ask a relatively safe question to begin with.

Remus doesn't buy it, but he knows me well enough by now to give me time to get around to the real issue. He pulls the other chair around so that we are sitting across from each other, our knees almost touching.

"They're fine, a little maniacal when it comes to helping you, but they're in good health."

I lift my head with a slight smile. "I'm glad." I twist my hands in my lap and glance at the guard standing by the door.

"Just pretend he's not there, Harry." Remus tries to draw my attention back to him. He takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look him in the eye. "Say whatever's on your mind."

"I think..." I take another deep breath to steady myself. "I think I made a huge mistake today."

Remus nods, urging me to continue.

"Malfoy thinks that he knows something about me and I'm worried that he might use it against me."

"What is it that he thinks he knows?"

"He thinks I'm...gay," I utter the last word barely above a whisper.

"Why would he think that?"

"Because I defended..._them_, and because he's bloody Draco Malfoy and he's out to get everyone!"

Remus leans forward, holding my gaze. "Harry, are you...?"

I look into Remus' warm eyes, filled with concern and fatherly affection, and I can't bring myself to talk to him about this. I don't want to alienate myself from the only family I have left. So I decide to go the safe route - and lie. "No! I'm not gay!"

"Okay, okay." Remus glances at the guard as he settles back against his chair. "I didn't mean to offend you, I was just curious."

"It's okay." I rub my eyes tiredly. "I didn't mean to freak out. Forget I brought it up."

"Harry-"

"How's Dumbledore?" I ask quickly, interrupting him.

Remus regards me thoughtfully then shakes his head. "He's fine. He's working hard to get you out of here, as are we all."

"Have they found anything else yet?"

"No, not yet," Remus admits with a heavy sigh. "But it won't be long now, something has to show up sooner or later."

I start to relax at this new and much safer topic. "Dumbledore said that they won't let us take Veritaserum to prove our innocence, do you know why?"

"He didn't tell you?"

I shake my head.

Remus leans forward again, elbows on his knees. "It's stupid, really. You see, Albus is a very strong and powerful wizard, a fact not lost on the Ministry or the general public. He is known as having acquired an endless amount of magical information and skills over the years, some of which the Ministry knows about, some of which they don't. One which they _do_ know about is his ability to elude the power of Veritaserum."

"What? I thought that was impossible," I say in disbelief.

"It almost is," Remus answers. "Albus had a few partners in his life with whom he worked with on different aspects of the less, shall we say, respectable areas of magic. Not dark magic exactly, but not things which the Ministry endorses at any rate. He worked on slowly building up a resistance to Veritaserum. Don't ask me how or even why, he's never told a living soul that I know of."

"Then why won't they let us take it?"

"Because they don't know whether to trust that Dumbledore has _not _trained you in that particular skill."

I slump over in my seat as the whole picture comes together. "And since they have no way of testing that Dumbledore is telling the truth, since they can't use Veritaserum on him, then they can't trust anything he says in our defence."

Remus nods in affirmation.

"So there's nothing I can do but wait?"

"I'm afraid so."

"What if they never find anything?" I ask quietly, feeling as though any hope I might have had walking into this room has left me entirely.

"They will, Harry," Remus says with conviction. "They won't just send Harry Potter to Azkaban without complete proof of anything."

"I don't want to be stuck here." I try to hold back the tears, a futile attempt at keeping at least some dignity in this place.

"C'mere." Remus stands and opens his arms and I once again find myself wrapped in his safe embrace. I cling to him desperately and bury my face in the warm brown folds of his cloak; the smell of grass and_ real_ fresh air surrounds me.

"Time's up."

The rough voice of the guard snaps me back to reality and I very slowly pull away, feeling as though I've just been stripped of all warmth and left empty and cold.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Remus whispers into my ear, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "And Harry? It's okay if Malfoy's right."

I look up at him.

"Just this once." He winks and touches my cheek one last time before walking out.

I don't even remember being led back to my cell again.

I can't stop thinking about what Remus said. Not the technical stuff about my case and the lack of evidence to support me, but just those two words, going round and round my head – 'it's okay.'

He thinks it's okay. Remus thinks that it's okay that I'm gay.

"It's okay," I whisper again in wonder as the metal door is wrenched open and I calmly walk into my cell.

"Must have heard some good news," Malfoy comments as he looks up and takes in my happy expression.

"Not really." I smile carelessly.

Malfoy frowns, obviously thinking that I've gone round the bend. "What did the werewolf have to say?"

"Not much." I ignore the werewolf comment and settle down on my mat across from Malfoy. I'm not rising to his bait again. "I asked about Veritaserum-"

"What?"

I frown as Malfoy stares at me with wide eyes. "Yeah, I asked why they wouldn't let us take it. Something wrong?"

Malfoy quickly regains his composure and smoothes his expression. "Of course not, Potter. I was just wondering why you'd bothered to bring it up again, that's all."

"Oh." I continue to stare at my cellmate with curiosity.

"I told you before to stop staring at me, Potter. I'm not a fucking poofter like you, so get your rocks off somewhere else."

This time I don't feel angry, I feel sorry for him. He's obviously trying to cover up the fact that he's just as scared as I am. I just wish I could work out what it is that sets him off. We worked together just fine before, but I guess prison can do that to a person, especially one as used to the finer things in life as Malfoy is.

I never thought that I would pity Draco Malfoy, and I almost do right now.

I'm not going to waste my time on it though. I have more important things to think about, like getting out of here.

I sit and stare out our tiny window for the rest of the day, running over Remus' words again and again: it's okay, it's okay, it's okay...

I smile to myself and think that maybe all hope hasn't escaped me just yet.


	7. Judjment Pending

I stumble out of my cell a few days later and stand at attention just outside the bars as the guards perform the morning prisoner count. Malfoy stifles a yawn and blinks rapidly to clear his bleary, early morning vision as he takes his place next to me.

One by one the guards walk through each section of the prison and call out the 'all clear' to their superiors, who mark it down on a large checklist from the main floor below. Our cell is located on the second of three floors. All of the cells face outward toward the open space in the middle of the large containment room, where a series of staircases and ladders lead down onto the main floor.

Twice a day we are subjected to an inmate count, once in the morning and once before lights out. A loud piercing whistle wakes us at seven and we must scramble outside as quickly as possible as the doors automatically slide open.

With this mornings count finished, Malfoy and I quickly put on our grubby trainers and form a line to walk to the dining hall (such as it is), with the rest of the inmates.

Breakfast consists of runny eggs, burnt bacon, and soggy, unbuttered toast. And in his usual prima donna fashion, Malfoy huffs indignantly and complains throughout the entire ordeal.

I set my fork down loudly and grit my teeth. I did not get much sleep the night before, and I am feeling tired and on edge after the previous day's events. I have a feeling anything even the slightest bit annoying is going to set me off today, which definitely includes Malfoy and his grating behaviour.

"What's your problem?" he asks, stopping in the midst of his grumbling.

"You!" I exclaim. "Are you going to complain about everything the whole time we're in here? Because it's starting to get on my nerves."

"Calm down, Potter." Malfoy rolls his eyes and picks up his toast to examine it. "You queers are so touchy."

I have sudden visions of myself turning to him and punching him as hard as I can in the face, but I have more self-control than that. I merely pluck my plate from the table and stand up.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asks with a touch of panic.

"Away from you." I throw over my shoulder as I walk off.

As my anger fades, I begin to notice that all the other tables are pretty crowded and that there is no way that I will find a spot where I could be on my own. This leaves me the only option of joining another group of inmates – none of which I even remotely know, and I'm in no great hurry to get to know them. But it's between either sitting with this hardened lot, or going back to Malfoy and his histrionics.

I hesitate beside one table and glance at the group of five seated there. They don't look_ too_ bad…

"Would you mind if I joined you?" I ask quietly, standing there with my tray in my hands.

They all turn to stare at me and I suddenly feel about ten years old again. Before I can turn tail and run, one of them speaks up.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

I swallow and nod nervously, not quite sure if I _want_ to be Harry Potter at this moment.

The man suddenly breaks into a smile and pulls out the chair next to him. "Have a seat."

I smile gratefully and seat myself in the chair with relief.

"My name is Rick, but people call me Jackknife," the man introduces himself as I begin to munch unenthusiastically at my meal. "This here is Trip, Harshad, Little Slick, and Amari."

"Do all of you have nicknames?" I ask, looking around.

"Of course." Jackknife nods. "When you come into Grace, you leave the outside world behind. We find our worldly names just remind us of what can't have anymore, so we recreate ourselves. Isn't that right, lads?"

The men nod seriously and part of me wonders why they're in here. I mean, I could be sitting with actual murderers and psychopaths.

"Do_ you_ have a nickname?" Jackknife is asking me.

"No. Not one that I care to be called anyway," I answer, somewhat moodily.

Jackknife laughs heartily and the other men smile. "Don't worry, Potter, we'll give you one to be proud of."

I smile a little as the men start suggesting then rejecting names in earnest. I dart a quick glance over at Malfoy and smile as I watch him sulkily push his food around on his plate. If he would just look up then I could stick my tongue out at him…

"How about Shombay?" One of the men, I can't remember who, suggests.

"What does it mean?" Jack asks.

"It means 'one who walks like a lion' in Swahili."

"Got any names that mean 'hero'?" Jack asks, glancing at me teasingly.

I roll my eyes and groan. "I'm not a hero. I haven't_ really_ done anything."

"How about 'imprisoned yet to be hero'?" One of the others laughs.

"We do have a name for 'one who will succeed.' It is Bakari."

The men fall silent and nod approvingly.

"What do you think, Potter?" Jack asks me.

I nod in agreement and smile. "Bakari." I try it out on my tongue.

"Sounds good."

I smile at the man who gave me my new nickname. He is seated across the table from me and is quite tall and broad shouldered, with deep black skin and wise brown coloured eyes. He looks to be about thirty or forty, maybe older, and has a smooth way of moving with a deliberate grace. Maybe he was an African king in another life.

Jack claps me on the back and returns to eating his breakfast along with the others.

Jack reminds me strongly of Sirius. It's not just his physical appearance, but also his way of speaking and his mannerisms. He is youthful and extremely cool, I mean, his nickname is_ Jackknife_ – how cool is that? I can already feel a bond forming towards him.

The food doesn't seem to taste half as bad now as I force myself to take another bite. I dart another glance over at Malfoy and catch him staring at me. He quickly averts his eyes, and I'm pretty sure a slight pink blush is staining his cheeks.

I snicker to myself and swallow my bacon with difficulty. He's just mad that I made friends in here and can survive on my own. Somehow I forget that my newfound independence leaves him utterly on his own as well.

"We'll help you out, Bakari." Jack speaks up suddenly. "Show you the ropes, tell you what's what and who to avoid."

"Thanks," I reply gratefully.

"First things first." I think it's Trip who is speaking now. "Who is that stuck up ponce that you're rooming with?"

I snort with amusement and have to cover my mouth with my hand as I try to swallow my food without spitting it across the table. "That's Draco Malfoy. We go - er…_went_ to school together."

"What's his problem?"

"He's a stuck up ponce." I tell them, matter of factly.

The other men laugh outright and I have to stop myself from looking over at Malfoy to see his reaction as they all turn to have a look at him.

"So what are you in for?" One of them, I think it's Amari, asks.

The smile slips off my face and I bite my lip in hesitation.

"Must be pretty bad for them to arrest _the_ Harry Potter," Jack adds.

I nod. "Murder," I finally admit quietly. "But I didn't do it."

Startled, they all begin laughing.

"We're innocent, too." Harshad grins.

"No really," I protest. "I _am_ innocent."

"Aren't we all?" Jack smiles, giving me a wink.

I decide to let it drop and go back to finishing off my breakfast.

Later that day I find myself standing outside with my new group of friends, hunched over against the cold wind and talking about anything and everything.

I'm not sure how, but Jack has managed to attain a pack of fags and is smoking them while he explains the rules of Grace to me.

"Do you know of the black box?" he asks.

I shake my head, swiping my hair out of my eyes for the fifth time.

Jack takes another drag and slowly releases the smoke into the frigid air. "It's one of the more common punishments in here. You do something they don't like, and believe me it doesn't take much; they'll throw you into this tiny, dank hole. You have to sit on the floor, cramped and cold, with no source of light and just enough of the foulest food you've ever tasted to keep you alive."

I shiver and glance around at the other men. They too seem to shudder at the mere mention of this place.

"How long do they keep you in there?" I ask.

"However long they goddamn want," Trip answers darkly.

"Have any of you been in there?"

"All of us have spent time in the black box, except for Little Slick," Jack answers.

Amari smirks. "And Jack has been in there the most often and for the longest amount of time."

Jack smiles and takes a little bow as the others applaud him. I grin as Jack's antics once again remind me of my godfather.

"What did you do?" I ask with a smile.

"Burned one of the guards with my fag."

My mouth drops open in shock even as the others smile and nod their obvious approval of the action. "Why?"

"He had it coming." Jack shrugs carelessly.

"Maybe we should warn him about the Carnal Boys," Amari interjects.

"Who are they?" I ask with interest.

"The fucking scum of the planet," Trip mutters.

"The Carnal Boys are three of the inmates here," Jack explains. "They're seriously sick and twisted. Arrested for the rape and murder of a couple of Muggle kids."

"Then why are they here? Why not just send them to Azkaban?"

"'Cause the little shits are only here under a 'strong suspicion' of the crime. Which means the Ministry Squad haven't found any bodies and there's precious little to convict them for – yet."

"There's also a good chance they might end up in the crazy ward over at St. Mungo's," Little Slick adds.

"They're crazy?" My eyes widen slightly as my education continues.

"Definitely mentally unstable." Amari confirms.

"Anyway." Jack stubs his fag out and glances around the yard. "You'll want to stay away from them. They like to prey upon the new prisoners, especially young ones, and you're the youngest one we've got."

"What do they do?" I ask, my mouth dry.

The men shake their heads in disgust as Amari answers.

"They'll grab someone when they least expect it and drag them off somewhere. Then have their way with them."

I suddenly wish that I hadn't forced down that greasy breakfast. "A-are they…gay?" I ask hesitantly.

"Who knows?" Harshad shrugs. "I suspect they'll do it to anybody, regardless of gender. They do it for the thrill, the power trip."

I want to ask if any of them have been attacked by the Carnal Boys, but it seems too personal a question. "What do they look like?"

The others peel back as Jack puts an arm around my shoulders and points me towards the other end of the yard. I squint towards the cluster of men by the fence. Jack points his finger and I spot the three men who are standing solitary.

I swallow nervously. They are like adult versions of Crabbe and Goyle; large and burly, like gorillas. Only they are far more frightening and sinister looking. The three of them are simply looking around at everyone, not saying a word.

I quickly turn away before they catch me staring. I don't want to attract their attention.

"You'd better tell that poncey friend of yours," Jack suggests, as he takes his eyes off of the Carnal Boys and stares down at me. "He's definitely a target, too."

"I will." I nod seriously. I certainly don't hate Malfoy _that_ much.

"I think you have a visitor, Bakari."

It takes me a moment to remember that _I'm_ Bakari, and turn to look where Little Slick is looking. One of the guards is motioning for me to follow him back into the building. He's holding a pair of handcuffs and the special tag that you have to wear while using the visitor's room.

I smile in anticipation, wondering who it could be this time. I cross my fingers and hope for Remus.

"Ron! Hermione!" I cry out and run forward to embrace my closest friends.

We hug and cling together tightly for a moment. I'd forgotten how much of a three piece puzzle we used to be; one just doesn't work without the other pieces.

We eventually sit down, Hermione wiping tears from her cheeks, and they rapidly begin to fill me in on what's happening on the outside.

"Everyone's helping, Harry-"

"Hagrid's been depressed ever since-"

"Dumbledore never sleeps-"

"The Forest has been completely roped off-"

"Ministry workers are everywhere-"

"You wouldn't believe how many Aurors are helping-"

"The press are going crazy!"

"You're on the front page every day-"

"A picture of you behind bars-"

"My mum has been in a right state-"

"Starting a petition-"

"Sent a jumper but they wouldn't let me bring it in-"

When they both have finally run out of breath – and information – I smile and just take in their familiar faces.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asks.

"You look a little drugged, mate," Ron raises a brow.

"It's just so good to see you two again."

"Is it really horrible in here?" Hermione asks quietly, leaning towards me.

I bite my lip and try to decide how to answer. I don't want to worry them too much. "It's…okay, I guess. We don't get whipped or anything."

Hermione looks relieved and I feel that I made the right decision.

"Doesn't mean that I still don't want out of here as soon as possible," I add.

"We're working on it, Harry."

"Do you see Malfoy much?" Ron asks.

"Every day." I nod with a roll of the eyes. "We have to share a cell."

"At least you're not with people you don't know," Hermione reasons. "I mean, you could've been paired with the _real_ criminals in here."

"Yeah, but _Malfoy_." Ron grimaces as if it's just as bad.

"I just ignore him."

"Has he talked to you at all, Harry?" Hermione speaks quietly again.

"About what?"

"Snape's murder."

"No, why should he?"

Ron and Hermione share a look.

"What?" I frown, glancing between them.

"Harry," Hermione broaches hesitantly. "Did you ever wonder if maybe Malfoy _did_ kill Snape?"

"That's impossible." I shake my head. "He was with me that night."

"Harry, they're saying that Snape's body had been lying there all day. He wasn't killed at night."

"But…the light. I saw the green flash through the trees."

"It could have been a time released spell or explosion, or even fireworks created to look like the Avada Kedavra curse."

"Hermione, you didn't see his face when we found Snape's body. He was just as scared and shocked as I was."

"He's also a very good actor."

"Not_ that_ good," I counter.

Hermione looks doubtful.

"Did you know that Snape was the person who sent Lucius to Azkaban?" Ron asks.

"Yeah, so?"

"So if Malfoy_ is_ working for You-Know-Who then he would want to get revenge on whoever sent his father away."

"That's crazy." I don't want to think about it. Malfoy _can't_ be in league with Voldemort. He's been working with the Order, with_ me_, for over a year now. It can't have been just a ruse.

"Think about it, Harry," Hermione urges. "Malfoy is at Hogwarts where any number of Order members come and go with information to deliver to Dumbledore. He's right in the centre of the light side. He can pledge allegiances to any side he wants and then play the double agent. Have you ever known Malfoy to go against his father, or his House reputation for that matter? Maybe Voldemort's plan is to get you sent to Azkaban. Maybe that was Malfoy's mission."

"But then Malfoy would be sent to Azkaban as well," I point out.

"What's one less Death Eater if he has you out of the way long enough to gain control again."

I look away but it's too late, that little seed of doubt and suspicion has taken root and begun to grow. Ron and Hermione don't even know that Malfoy _was_ playing the double agent for our side; he was privy to information that only the Order knew.

Could he have? Could Malfoy actually have murdered Professor Snape?

"Confront him about it." Ron is clearly convinced that Malfoy is behind the gruesome homicide.

I blink and look up at Ron.

He nods his head and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "See what he says."

"He's not going to admit to it now."

"But you might get lucky if he gives himself away somehow. Be sneaky."

All the way back to my cell, I can't stop thinking about Malfoy. The more I think about it, the more suspicions and past actions come back to haunt me. I find myself analysing every little thing he did that night.

The guard slams the cell door closed behind me and I jump at the sudden noise, startling me from my distracted stupor.

Malfoy glances up at me and narrows his eyes before turning back to the tattered book in his hands. He's obviously still put out about me abandoning him this morning.

I sit down on my mat, trying to find the cleanest spot possible, and think about what I should do.

It won't hurt just to ask him about it…or maybe I could trap him into admitting it without him knowing.

"Hey, Malfoy."

He looks up. "What?" he snaps in irritation.

"I should probably tell you that they've decided to believe Dumbledore and try us with the Veritaserum."

Malfoy's eyes definitely widen a fraction. He closes his book and sets it aside. "Why?"

"Just because." I shrug carelessly.

"When?" Malfoy asks tightly.

"Tomorrow."

I watch him closely as he picks up his book again and flips it open.

I continue to watch as his eyes don't move across the page. He stays on the same page for over twenty minutes. I notice the slight furrow of his brow and the white knuckled tightness of his fingers.

And I definitely notice when he doesn't sleep a wink that night.


	8. Judgment Received

The next morning I invite Malfoy to sit with me and my new companions in the dining hall for breakfast. He nods wordlessly and sits beside me without complaint. 

Jack raises a brow at his docile behaviour and I just shrug in reply. We ignore the blond and talk around him, I do not even venture an attempt at bringing him into the conversation. Malfoy is consumed by his own thoughts and I can only guess at what it is that occupies his mind.

As soon as the meal is over and we are sent outside for two free hours, I grab Malfoy by the sleeve and drag him off to a private corner of the yard.

"What the hell, Potter?" Malfoy exclaims, throwing my arm off of him.

I refuse to beat around the bush. "Did you kill Snape?" I demand.

Malfoy's eyes widen and his lips part in surprise.

"Because," I plunge on heedlessly, "there's obviously a reason that you don't want to take the Veritaserum and I want to know why."

Malfoy recovers quickly. "How dare you ask me that, Potter," he says in a deadly whisper. "Snape was _my_ head of house, _my_ mentor, _my_ friend…" he chokes off and turns away to regain his composure. "I do not have to explain myself to you, Potter. If anything, I should be the one asking you that question. It's no secret that you hated Professor Snape." Malfoy turns an accusatory glare my way, the icy silver of his eyes cutting right through me.

"But your so-called _friend_ sent your father to prison," I persist.

"Gods, you are so thick, Potter," Malfoy grinds out. "Do you honestly think that there was any love between my father and I?"

"But…he's your dad." I cannot believe anyone could feel so indifferent towards their own father, no matter who they were.

"If the Dark Lord was your father, would _you_ still love him?"

"It's more complicated than just good and evil, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirks and folds his arms over his chest. "I'm surprised someone like you can understand that. You're finally learning, Potter. But that doesn't answer my question, would you love your father if he was an evil bastard?"

I chew on my lip as I pace, trying to figure out how best to voice my thoughts. "It depends on a person's character, I guess. If someone grows up learning that one way is right and one way is wrong, then who's to say that that is the wrong way." I stop and run a hand through my hair in exasperation. "I'm not explaining myself very well."

"No, you're not," Malfoy drawls, coolly.

"What I mean is that a person will automatically love their father right from birth, and will look up to him and believe what he says, no matter what. If a child is taught that his father's way is the only way, then why should he question it? If the child is unharmed and treated in a loving manner, then there is nothing to tell him that anything is wrong. By the time he is a teenager, the beliefs are so far ingrained that he will continue to look up to his father and remain true to his family. Just as I believe that the good side is the right side, our enemies on the evil side believe that _their_ side is right. It's just a question of perspective."

Malfoy nods, like a teacher acknowledging the correct answer from his pupil.

"So how is it that you, Malfoy, managed to break the cycle and refuse your father?" I ask.

"Again, it's a question of perspective. As I grew older, I came to realize that the number of do-gooders outnumbered the members of the Dark Lord's group, and always would. I was not awed by delusions of grandeur and power, which is the downfall of all Death Eaters, including my father. I quite suddenly couldn't fathom my father's actions at all, I knew that the highest ranking Death Eater still had to bow at the Dark Lord's feet and still feared for his life every time he apparated to that godforsaken circle. Then I looked at the side of the light, really looked, and saw no bowing in the dirt at Dumbledore's feet, no human sacrificing made for the cause, no pain nor torture."

"You make it sound so obvious," I note quietly. "Then why are there so many Death Eaters, why don't more people see it the way you do? If you broke away, why not others?"

Malfoy sighs, suddenly weary. "Because they are blind to the truth, and others are too scared to defy him. I think Dumbledore hopes that taking us away from our families and their opinions and sticking us with other wizarding children from different backgrounds at Hogwarts just might change us for the better, make us question the truth. I think that's why he's kept Slytherin house around, he's giving us a chance to be our own person. Slytherins aren't bad people, Potter, they just haven't been given the opportunity to become who they really are."

"And Snape helped you find who you really are?" I ask, gently.

"Yes." Malfoy lifts his chin, daring me to challenge him. "He is…was a good man. He has saved more lives than you will ever know, and always at the risk of his own. He was more of a father than Lucius ever was."

I am stunned that Malfoy is opening up to me in this way. I feel like I should reciprocate the gesture. "I didn't really hate, Snape," I admit. "He's saved my life on more than one occasion. I also think that he was good for you, for the Slytherins in general. He showed your house a pride that I don't think any of the other professors felt towards you."

"You're right there, Potter," Malfoy sneers disdainfully. "For a school that is supposed to teach equality of mankind, the professors certainly are prejudiced, which in turn affects the other students as well."

"I had heard that your house was the one to avoid even before I'd passed through the doors of Hogwarts."

"You see?" Malfoy smiles coldly.

I absently blow at a stray lock of hair that has fallen into my eye. "I bet you didn't know that I was going to be sorted into Slytherin."

"You what?" Malfoy exclaims, his mask of cool superiority slipping.

"Yeah." I chuckle. "But I pleaded for the hat to send me anywhere but there, so he did."

Malfoy shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe the Golden Boy of Hogwarts was almost put into Slytherin."

"I wonder what would've happened."

Malfoy shrugs indifferently. "I guess we'll never know."

I look over at the blond, considering. "Did you ever wonder what would've happened if I had taken your hand that first day?"

"No." Malfoy raises a brow. "Why? Do you think about holding my hand a lot, Potter?"

"No!" I exclaim, horrified. I pray that he won't bring up the whole queer thing again.

He doesn't.

Malfoy leans up against the fence and stares around the yard in a bored manner. "I wonder when they'll come to fetch us."

"Huh?" I look at him blankly.

"To give us the Veritaserum."

"Oh." I'd forgotten about that little white lie. "About that, er…I lied, Malfoy. They haven't changed their minds about giving us the serum."

Malfoy narrows his eyes at me and I prepare for the inevitable explosion. Then he breaks into a reluctant smile. "Maybe you would have survived alright in Slytherin after all."

"You're not mad?" I ask, incredulously.

He shrugs and turns to look out over the yard once more, a faint smile still hovering about his lips. "Why should I be? I never really answered your question, did I?"

He's right. I start to smile as well. "So tell me now."

"Maybe when you're older," he answers evasively.

I shake my head and let it go for the time being. "Can I properly introduce you to my friends now?"

"What for?" Malfoy replies, back to using his utterly bored tone of voice.

"Because sometimes it's nice to have people looking out for you."

Malfoy glances at me. "What are they in here for?" he asks.

"What does that matter?" I frown. "Need I remind you, that _we _are in here for _murder._ Plus, they all told me that they're all innocent." A smile pulls at my lips at that.

"Because, Potter, everything we do in here can get back to the court and sway the judge's opinion of us, of our case. All we need is for them to find out that we've been cavorting with Death Eaters and mass murders."

"They're not raving lunatics, Malfoy. They're good people," I defend.

"How would you even know?" he counters. "Maybe they've been placed in here for a reason."

"And what would that be?" I ask with a roll of my eyes.

Malfoy shrugs carelessly. "I don't know, maybe to kill the Dark Lord's main target while he's in the shower."

I simply stare at him for a minute. "How does it feel?" I ask.

"How does what feel?"

"To always suspect the world of being against you? To never feel like you can trust anyone."

"I trust myself, Potter, and that's enough. People will come and go, but you can only count on yourself to get you through this mess of a life," he answers matter-of-factly, a touch of bitterness sharpening the words.

I shake my head. I would pity him if I didn't know him so well. "How about meeting them just to please me?" I try, jokingly.

"Fine." He replies shortly. "But tell me something first."

"W-what?" I ask, thrown.

"Do you still think that I murdered Professor Snape?"

I lick my lips and stare down at my trainers as I scuff at the dusty gravel beneath my feet. "I don't know, Malfoy." I sigh. "I want to believe you, but I just don't know if you're putting on an act or not. Ron and Hermione said-" I shake my head. "I…I need to think about it for awhile," I say finally.

"Fair enough." Malfoy nods and straightens up, pushing himself off the fence in one smooth motion. "Introduce me to your psychotic, blood-thirsty friends now, Potter."

I snort and walk off across the yard - Malfoy in tow - as we head towards my small group of companions.

I greet them with a smile. "Hey guys, I think I forgot to introduce my cellmate to you earlier." I turn and motion to Malfoy. "This is Draco Malfoy."

"Of the Death Eater Malfoys?" Jack inquires in a feigned posh accent.

I wince inwardly.

Malfoy coolly raises a brow in return. "Yes, and you are?"

I let out a breath of relief.

"Oh, I go by many names; Richard Hannigan the third, Jackknife, Jack, Jack of all trades-"

"Jack the long-winded?" Malfoy interjects sardonically.

The right corner of Jack's mouth twitches almost imperceptively. "Some might say that, yes." He leans right over towards Malfoy, standing a good three or four inches taller than the snide blonde. "But they never lived long enough to repeat the offence."

Malfoy holds his ground. "Don't worry about it, Hannigan, I have no intention of repeating the offence of speaking with you again."

Jack guffaws and everyone smiles as he claps Malfoy on the shoulder, a gesture that I'm sure the Slytherin has never experienced before. He stumbles forward slightly in surprise.

"You're alright, kid." Jack winks.

Malfoy smoothes his shabby prison robes with dignity. "Yes, well…that means a lot to me," he answers sarcastically. "The inmate stamp of approval."

I shoot Amari a smile as he observes Malfoy's behavior with a puzzled frown. "If you're trying to think of a nickname for him, may I suggest 'one-who-has-silver-spoon-up-his-arse?'"

Everyone laughs as Malfoy glares at me. Oh, if looks could kill. I use his trademark smirk on him in return.

"I will think of a proper name once I have seen behind the mask," Amari says wisely.

I glance at Malfoy, waiting for some snide remark, but he is merely appraising the black man in silence.

"Any problems yet, boys?" Little Slick asks, lighting a fag.

I share a look with Malfoy. "No, not really. Although, the guards could be kinder."

"Here, here." The rest chorus in agreement. "Will never happen, though," Jack says as he accepts his pack of fags back from Little Slick and slips them into his pocket.

"Potter!"

I turn and watch as two of the guards approach us at a brisk walk, eyeing the other inmates around us with displeasure. I swallow nervously, wondering if they have been secretly monitoring our conversation somehow. I didn't say anything too incriminating, I don't think…

"Yes?" I answer hesitantly.

"Your presence is required in the conference room," the tall guard grunts at me, yanking my arms out and shackling them without another word. Jack narrows his eyes warningly at him as I wince in pain.

"Yours, too, Malfoy." The other one informs my cellmate.

"See you later, Bakari."

I look over my shoulder as we are led away and see Jack lift a hand in goodbye.

Malfoy and I are led through the dark, foul-smelling corridors until we end up before a thick, rusty metal door. The guard accompanying Malfoy pushes it open and unceremoniously shoves me inside, slamming the door closed once more behind me.

Dumbledore is sitting calmly at the large metal table that occupies most of the room, and Remus is pacing just behind him.

"Harry." Remus greets me with a warm smile, his eyes searching for any signs of abuse or discomfort.

I smile back at him, wishing that I could break out of these shackles and run into his arms. There's nothing that I would want more in this moment than a nice, warm hug. Prison seems to reduce a person back to their inner child, and I find myself craving stuffed animals, hot chocolate, and hugs from the man that is the closest thing to a father that I have. I know it's pathetic, but I absolutely ache with the want of it.

"Have a seat, Harry," Dumbledore invites kindly, motioning to an empty chair.

Remus sits beside Dumbledore and they both fold their hands on top of the table. I sit down, copying their hand position, except that my wrists are weighted down by heavy steel chains that clatter loudly on the table top.

"Where's Malfoy?" I ask, realizing that I have left him in the corridor.

"He'll be in in a moment," Dumbledore replies absently.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Remus asks in concern.

"M'okay." I shrug, looking down at my hands. I know I will fall to pieces if I look at his worried face. "Why are you here?" I look up at Dumbledore. "Did you find anything yet?"

Dumbledore shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry, my boy."

I nod and return to looking at my hands. The hard steel suddenly feels even colder around my thin wrists, the edges biting into my skin.

Remus glances at Dumbledore before speaking. "Harry, your headmaster and I had a visit from Hermione and Ron this morning."

I look up with a frown.

"They were very insistent that we speak with them about something."

"What?" I ask.

He glances at Dumbledore again. "They seem to think that you are not…considering all the possibilities that could've come into play the night Snape was murdered."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that you are a good person, Harry," Dumbledore answers, "but can sometimes be blinded by your faith in the people around you."

"Malfoy." I state simply.

They both nod in affirmation.

I sigh, not really knowing why this conversation is annoying me. Maybe it's the fact that my friends went behind my back, not trusting me to come to my own conclusions, or maybe just the conclusions they want to hear. "You think I'm protecting Malfoy?" I say incredulously. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? We are not friends, we do not sit up all night and trade secrets while sharing a cell here. I might not hate him like I used to, but that's only because we have been working together for the past year – _you_ must trust him, professor," I cry, looking to Dumbledore. "I mean, you have him working for the Order for Merlin's sake."

"I trusted Tom Riddle at one point in my life as well, Harry," Dumbledore answers evenly.

"Look." I can feel myself growing more and more agitated. "Malfoy is many things that aren't exactly warm and fluffy, but he is not a murderer."

"Harry." Remus leans across the table towards me. "If you have any doubts about his innocence whatsoever, you can tell us."

I'm about to reply when Dumbledore quickly interrupts. "Think about this for a minute, Harry. If you tell us that you suspect Mr Malfoy, then the court is prepared to take your word for it and let you walk free, proceeding with the trial against Draco alone."

I feel as if the air has been sucked right out of my body. I stare unseeing at the two wizards across from me. I can go home, I can return to my life, I can see my friends, I can see Hagrid, play quidditch, I won't have to see Malfoy any….

I snap out of it, blinking a few times. Deep down I know that I am not sure about Malfoy either way. I would never be able to live with myself knowing that I had left Malfoy to fend for himself, my testimony hurting his chances of ever walking free again. Especially if he is innocent. I can't do that. I won't.

"No." I state firmly. "Draco isn't guilty of Snape's murder."

"Are you completely sure?" Remus urges. "No doubts at all?"

"No." I shake my head. I know that's a lie, but it's one that will not only save Malfoy, but my conscience as well. They will eventually find something, in the end we will be exonerated. And if Malfoy is guilty…then that will eventually come to light as well and he will deserve what he gets, I'll make sure of that.

"Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore suddenly smiles, the twinkle returning to his blue eyes. With a sudden jolt, I wonder if he knows the truth. The headmaster stands and walks over to the door to let Malfoy in.

Remus smiles at me, but I can tell that he was really hoping that I would finger Malfoy so that I could go home with him today.

Malfoy eyes the two of us as he takes the chair beside me. He stares expectantly at Dumbledore.

The headmaster suddenly looks very tired again. "Mr Malfoy, a few of the Hogwart's staff members and myself have been going through Severus' belongings."

Malfoy stiffens beside me, but his face remains impassive.

"Sorting through his books and journals and the like. Is there anything that you would like for us to set aside for you?"

Malfoy swallows, his long, pale throat convulsing with the movement as he thinks quietly to himself before replying. "I would appreciate it if you would set aside his journals for me." He stops, then adds, "And there is a set of shampoo, bubble bath, and conditioners in his bathroom that I gave to him as a gift last Christmas, I would like to have that as well."

From my close position, I can see the effort it is taking for Malfoy to speak. How he is blinking more often than is normal, the tight set of his jaw.

Now I know I made the right decision. Malfoy was clearly very close to Snape, I would even go so far as to say loved him. There's no way that he was the one to end his life.

"Of course." Dumbledore scribbles a few notes down on a piece of parchment from his pocket. He puts it away once more and looks up to fix us with a grave stare. "I should also tell you, Mr Malfoy, that I have just gone over Severus' will. He has left his entire estate to you."

I gape and turn to the stunned blond. He too seems at a loss for words.

"That's not good news, is it?" Malfoy finally asks, looking between the two older wizards.

"I'm afraid not," Remus says quietly. "The fact that one of the suspects in Snape's murder is also the recipient of his entire fortune and estate does not bode well for your case."

Malfoy accepts the news with a nod.

There is a heavy silence in the room as we all absorb this new twist. It seems the fates are against us…if I believed in such things, that is. Luckily, I've spent enough time around Trelawney to not make me a believer in any of that tripe.

"I'm afraid we have to go now, gentlemen," Dumbledore announces, breaking the silence. He rises and we all get to our feet. "Take care," he says in passing. "Do not lose hope."

I nod and try to smile as Dumbledore walks past.

Remus gathers me into a hug, even if I can't reciprocate. I close my eyes and bury my face in his chest. "Goodbye, Harry," he whispers, brokenly. "I'll come back as often as I can, and don't worry, we'll find something soon."

I nod, feeling the tears prickle hotly behind my eyes.

"Goodbye, Mr Malfoy," Remus says politely to Draco. "You're lucky to have someone as selfless as Harry in here with you."

I feel my cheeks burn as Malfoy frowns slightly at Remus' retreating back.

We are taken back to our cell and turned loose. I rub my sore wrists and eye my soiled mat with disgust. I don't think I can sleep another night on that filthy, disease-ridden thing.

"What was that all about, Potter?" Malfoy asks, looking as if he was also contemplating the idea of sleeping standing up to avoid his mat.

"What?" I reply, knowing perfectly well what he is talking about.

"Don't play dumb with me, Potter. You're werewolf friend was talking about something, something about you being a perfect hero."

"He did not." I lean against the wall and look out our tiny, barred window.

"If you tell me then I'll answer your question," Malfoy sing-songs teasingly.

"Even if you did kill Snape, do you really think me gullible enough to believe that you would actually tell me the truth?" I stall.

"True." Malfoy smirks. "I swear on my father's grave that I will tell you the truth."

"Your dad's not dead, Malfoy," I point out.

"Alright, on my mother's grave."

"You hated your mother."

Malfoy loses his teasing smirk. "I swear on Severus' grave that I will not lie to you."

Why am I doing this? I already know the answer. "Fine, I'll tell you." I can't look at him as I say it. "Dumbledore gave me an out today and I didn't take it. Now answer my question."

"Oh, hell no," Malfoy exclaims, eyes widening. "What the fuck are you talking about, Potter? What did he say? What did he offer you? And why the hell didn't you accept?"

I walk over to the window and stare out over the colourless yard below, a few grey-garbed prisoners dotting the barren landscape. "He told me that if I doubted your innocence, then I could tell the court and they would let me go, leaving you to be prosecuted alone."

"What?" Malfoy comes up beside me. "They were just going to take your word for it?"

I nod.

"And you said no?"

"I'm still here aren't I?"

Malfoy turns away and sits on his mat. "Fucking Ministry," he mutters. "Prejudiced bastards…"

I snort and turn around. "And you aren't?"

"What, a bastard or prejudiced?"

"Both. I seem to recall you using a certain derogatory term quite often-"

"I never called anyone a queer to their face…except maybe you, Potter."

I raise my brows. "I was talking about the term mudblood."

"Oh." Malfoy pauses, then shrugs. "I haven't called anyone that for some time."

I smile and look back out the window. A few minutes pass before Malfoy speaks again.

"Don't you want to know the answer to your question now?"

"No." I turn and square my shoulders before marching over to my mat and sitting down. I try to not breathe through my nose as that disgusting stench of body odour wafts up from the fabric. I am definitely ready for an afternoon nap at this point

"Why not?" he asks, tilting his blond head curiously.

He looks so like a child at that moment that I have to smile. I bet he was a cute kid when he was little, those big grey eyes, white-blond hair, pale skin.

"Potter?"

I lie down on my side, facing him. "Because I already know the answer," I say simply.

I close my eyes and I hear Malfoy settling himself down on his mat as well. I am just at the point of drifting off when I hear the faintest of whispers.

"Thank you."

I smile, my eyes still closed. "Your welcome, Draco," I murmur in return.


	9. The Last Laugh

****

I sit and watch Draco sleep. The blond is sleeping on his side, facing towards me, one arm bent over his head. His breathing is steady and slow, but with a congested sound to it, as if he has a cold.

It's early morning and I can already hear the other inmates stirring in their cells, the guards hushed voices as they prepare for another day, no doubt shining their wooden clubs for another day of beating. I am trying my best to stay on their good side.

I smile a little as Malfoy lets out a tiny snort in his sleep.

He looks so different in here, among all this filth and grime. His skin is no longer glowing but has the same layer of dirt on it that mine does. His clothes are stained and disgusting, even ripped and torn in places, the cuffs frayed and crusty with dried mud. And his hair – I've never seen his hair in such disarray…yet, somehow, he still looks dignified and…young. Very, very young.

The state of Malfoy's clothes are a reminder that my own are in a similar way.

I push myself up and walk over to the hand basin in the corner of our cramped cell. I chew my lip and look down at my grey uniform, trying to figure out a way to clean it the best I can without actually having to remove anything. I really don't think Draco would appreciate waking up to the sight of me standing here naked while washing out my underwear.

I bend down and kick the grubby trainers from my feet, then carefully remove my socks using just the tip of my thumb and forefinger, my nose wrinkling in disgust. The stone floor freezes the bottom of my bare feet as I begin to rinse out my grimy socks.

The sun is actually shining for once in this godforsaken place and it warms my face through the tiny, barred window as I stand and wash. I even begin to whistle a bit as I work.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing, Potter?" A grumpy and tired voice demands from behind me.

"Laundry," I say simply, flashing him a smile.

Malfoy raises a brow and massages his neck with one hand as he sits up.

"Neck sore?" I ask, turning back to my washing.

"Yeah, I think it has something to do with sleeping on a stone floor, strangely enough."

By now, I've become used to Malfoy's sarcastic little quips, especially in the morning, and I just smile and ignore him.

A minute later, he has come up beside me, watching.

"That's gross," he observes, watching the cold, not quite clean water gush over my grungy socks.

I shrug and start to whistle again. Just to annoy him.

He watches in silence and I know it's coming – I can practically feel it.

"No," I say.

"No what?" He frowns.

"I am not going to wash your stuff, too, so just forget it," I smirk knowingly.

Draco opens his mouth, then changes his mind and clamps it shut again.

"You're welcome to join me, though," I offer, gesturing to the tap as I move over. I can practically see the thought process going through his mind at this point: _How can I, Draco Malfoy, wash my **own** clothes? That's servants' stuff. _

I try to hide my amusement as he slowly crouches down with a sigh and begins to untie his shoes.

Soon, we are both standing barefoot on our discarded trainers, scrubbing our socks as best we can under the icy stream of water.

For some reason, the situation suddenly strikes me as absolutely hilarious; the two of us, in prison, standing together at a cracked and broken sink, washing our socks. I bite my lip, but it's no use – I start to giggle and snicker.

"What the bleeding hell is so funny, Potter?" Malfoy asks.

This only makes me laugh harder and I have to bend over, resting my forehead on my arms as my body shakes with the force of it. My socks are hanging limply from my hands, forgotten. After a minute, I think I've got myself under control – until I look up, that is.

Malfoy's lips are pressed together as he stares intently at his socks, but it's no good, I can still tell. Malfoy - prince of cool composure - is actually trying not to laugh.

I catch his eye and grin. That does it. Malfoy bursts into great gales of laughter. I think the insanity is starting to set in - for the both of us. I feel absolutely giddy.

A sudden splash of water hits me in the face. I gasp in surprise and open my eyes. Malfoy is smirking at me. I narrow my eyes and swipe a hand through the water, directing it up into his face in retaliation. He turns his head, but the water catches him on the cheek and neck.

"You're so childish, Potter," he says, turning back with a teasing grin.

I laugh and stick my tongue out at him.

"Just proving my point, there, Potter."

I look down at my dripping sock, then back up at Malfoy.

His eyes widen. "Don't you dare…" He's starting to back away.

I clench my fist around the wet garment and Malfoy throws up his arms to protect his face. I smile and slowly pull it back behind me, preparing to throw.

The sound of a loud whistle suddenly stills my hand. It's time for the morning inmate check.

"Shit," I swear under my breath, quickly wringing out my socks and sitting down to pull them back onto my feet. I wince as the cold and damp fabric touches my skin. After hurriedly shoving my trainers on overtop, I jump up and walk over to the cell door, waiting for it to open.

Malfoy tosses his socks back into the hand basin and simply puts his shoes on without them.

"You're going to freeze…" I warn as he stands beside me.

"I really don't think those pathetically thin socks were really giving us much warmth," he replies, unperturbed.

The door slides open with a screech and we step out onto the landing to await the guards.

"What are you smiling about?" Malfoy glances at me strangely as we stand side by side.

"I just realized something," I remark thoughtfully. "That was the first time I've ever seen you laugh."

"I do know how to, Potter, despite what you may think."

"But _I've_ never seen it. I've only ever seen you do a cruel, taunting, or smug sort of laugh. This one was definitely different, much more natural."

Malfoy shakes his head and looks away. "You're mental, Potter."

"And that's another thing." I sigh in irritation. "Could you perhaps find it in yourself to stop calling me Potter?

"Why?" He genuinely looks confused.

"Because it's so…I don't know, distancing. I hate when people call me that."

"You're not going to start calling me Draco are you?" he asks warily.

"Only if you call me Harry."

"Then no, I am not going to start calling you by your given name."

"Why? Does it bother you that much to say it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just answer the question for gods sake!" I exclaim loudly in aggravation.

"Potter!"

A sharp uppercut to my ribs suddenly follows the harsh shout in my ear. I fall to the ground, clutching my stomach, and look up into the cruel sneer of one of the guards.

"There's no talking during morning count. Do you want to spend the rest of the day in the Box?" he threatens, stroking his club.

"N-no..." I gasp, the pain slowly receding.

Malfoy steps back as the guard walks past and on down the row. I stand up, grabbing the bars at my back to help me. I straighten up, breathing heavily. I can already feel a bruise forming.

"You okay, Harry?"

The pain suddenly disappears at those quietly uttered words. "You called me Harry," I whisper back, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.

He looks me in the eye. "If those bastards are going to call you, Potter, then I certainly can't anymore."

I'm not sure why, but my heart gives a little jump at the fiercely indignant sentiment. "Thanks."

Despite the ache in my ribs, I smile as I join the moving line down towards the dining hall for breakfast.

A few days later, I am sitting with Draco and the rest of my new friends in the yard. Jack has invented some kind of game with the pebbles and rocks that are scattered all over, and he and Draco are concentrating intensely. I guess you could say that it's kind of like that ancient African game - Mankala. It's very mathematical, which I hate, so I usually end up watching Draco and Jack go at it, which is usually quite the sight as both are fiercely competitive. Jack has christened the game, 'Stones.' A wildly creative name, as I like to tease him.

"I'm going to the loo, I'll be right back." All I get in response is a couple of distracted grunts.

I chuckle and get up, dusting the dry earth from my trousers. I head off towards Grace and into the toilet that's located just inside the door.

I'm washing my hands in the basin afterwards when I look up in the mirror and notice that I'm not alone. I quickly look back down at my hands and swallow nervously. Two of the Carnal Boys are standing in the doorway, watching me with great interest.

"I've never met a celebrity, have you, John?" One of them asks the other conversationally as he slowly walks forward, his beady eyes looking me up and down, a leering smile stretching his thin lips.

"Nope, can't say that I have, Bailey." The fatter of the two stays by the door, watching his brother advance on me.

I'm panicking now. I don't know what to do, I almost reach for my wand until I realize that it's not there in the waistband of my trousers where I used to keep it. I keep rubbing my hands together under the steady stream of water, biding some time, trying to think of something to do, part of me hoping that someone else will walk in and scare them off. Though I'm not really sure anything would scare off these big, brute-like men.

The one named Bailey is now beside me, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at me.

I turn off the tap and wipe my hands on my trousers. I turn to leave but am quickly stopped by a strong hand on my sleeve.

"What's your hurry, boy?" Bailey sneers, holding me in place. "We want an autograph, don't we, John?"

John nods enthusiastically.

"Sorry, but I don't have a pen," I say coldly, trying to brush his hand off of me.

Bailey lets out a sharp bark of laughter, holding tight. "That's okay, Potter, I'm sure we can think of other ways for you to _gratify_ us. All we ask is for just a little of your time."

"No." I again try to wrench myself from his iron grip.

Bailey's eyes darken and he suddenly pulls me to his chest. "Don't be a little cock-tease, boy. I know you want it. And when I'm done with you, I'll give you to my little brother over there."

"You're not going to be able to sit for a week, Potter." The fat brother laughs madly.

"Take your fucking hands off of me!" I shout furiously, swinging my leg out, trying to kick him in the shin.

Bailey swings me around and shoves me against the brick wall so fast that the breath is knocked from my body.

"We'll have none of that, Mr Potter." He says, wiggling a finger at me in warning. He suddenly smiles coldly. "Guess he likes it rough, eh, John?"

"Rough." John repeats stupidly, laughing.

I can feel the panic rising again as I realize that perhaps these men are a little mad. That John is definitely off his rocker.

Bailey grins at me, his other hand coming up to press against my groin. "Let's see famous Harry Potter's famous cock."

I gasp and kick out once more, frantically. My foot connects with his shin this time and he hisses in pain.

"Ow, shit…" Bailey relaxes his grip and I start struggling. "John! Get over here and hold him down."

The fat one hurries over and grabs me by the waist, then hauls me down and throws me to the ground. He immediately straddles my hips and holds my arms down with his meaty hands.

Bailey stands over me, his smile making my blood run cold. "I'm going to fuck you Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, then you can sign an autograph with your own fucking blood."

Helplessly, my eyes fill with tears as John starts scrabbling for the zip on my trousers. Bailey watches in glee, while slowly stroking his obvious erection through his own dirty and stained uniform.

I close my eyes, trying to block it out. This can't be happening…

"Harry!"

My eyes fly open and my head whips to the right. Draco is standing there, one hand holding the door open as his eyes widen in shock at the sight before him.

"Draco!" I cry, pleading, tears leaking out the sides of my eyes.

Draco's own eyes fill with rage and he storms into the small room. "Get your fucking hands off of him," he growls at John, who is still sitting on me.

"Mind your own business, blondie," Bailey snaps.

"He is my business, you ham-fisted cunt."

Bailey suddenly rushes at Draco. Draco dodges his fist and the two start fighting.

I notice that John is watching his brother fight instead of me, his grip has loosened. I take advantage of the moment and rip my arms from under his hands, then make a fist using both of my hands together and pound him right in the stomach as hard as I can.

"Oof!" John falls sideways off of me, clutching his gut.

I leap up, panting heavily as I stand over him. I glance over and see that Draco has Bailey trapped up against the wall. I smile and turn back to give John a vicious kick to his side.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

I turn, still breathing heavily, and see that two of the guards are standing in the doorway, surveying the four of us. I've never seen them look so furious.

"They attacked me," I explain, stepping away from John.

The guard raises a brow. I look around and see that Bailey's nose is bleeding and Draco still has him shoved up against the wall, while John is lying at my feet, groaning and holding his stomach.

"It's not what it looks like…" I start.

"Potter and his friend attacked us," said Bailey, sliding away from Draco.

"No we didn't!" I yell angrily. "You started it, I was just trying to defend myself." I turn to the two guards. "It was self defense."

The guard's eyes narrow as he looks at me. "Come on, Potter, you're coming with me." He walks over and unhooks a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.

"What? Where are we going?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly.

"I'm taking you to the Box."

"No!" I scream and try to pull away. "Please…no…"

The guard jerks my hands behind my back and locks the handcuffs into place. He jabs me in the back with his club. "Get moving, Potter."

I am terrified as I am pushed along. I cast one last look at Draco, he is pale and looks frightened as he watches me. The guard forces my head front again with another sharp jab of his club.

"Don't think that we're done with your little boyfriend yet," Bailey whispers into Draco's ear. "We'll get him when he comes back, you can be sure of that. He's got the sweetest little ass-"

Draco spins around and punches Bailey right in the nose as hard and as fast as he can. The delicate bone crunches beneath his fist and Bailey cries out in pain.

"Malfoy!" The other guard rushes forward and strikes Draco behind the knees with his club. Malfoy collapses forward with a yell, landing hard on his knees.

Meanwhile, my guard has turned around with me to see what the commotion is. "Bring him along, too," he orders sharply.

I am pulled back around and shoved through the long dark corridors ahead of the guard. He is taking me further and further down into the bowels of the prison. The smell is gradually worsening the farther we go, the stone walls are dripping with slime and polluted water, the light is so dim here that I have to squint to see. It smells like decaying flesh. It smells like death.

The guard stops at a rusty metal door that has been painted black. He opens it with a flick of his wand and then leads me inside. Once inside the room, I can see that there is a small trapdoor in the floor. He kicks it open with his foot, and before I can react, has grabbed me by the chain linking my handcuffs together and thrown me down into the black hole.

I hit the ground hard and groan in pain. My hands are still awkwardly twisted behind me within the confines of the cuffs. I roll over and sit up on my knees, trying to lessen the pressure on my wrists.

There is a loud cry from above and suddenly Malfoy lands beside me in the dirt. It seems his cuffs have been removed.

"You are going to be in here for two days, boys, so make yourselves at home." The two guards laugh as they slam the trapdoor shut.

The cramped space we are in suddenly goes black. I can't see a thing. I try to push down my panic, try to calm the breathing that sounds suddenly harsh in my ears. But the harder I try, the more frightened I feel. I don't think I can do this…

"Harry?" Draco's voice calls out to me softly.

I can't answer, I think I shall scream if I open my mouth.

I can hear Draco shuffling around in the dark. "Harry?" his voice is much closer. He must be sitting right in front of me. I feel a hand tentatively touch my shoulder, then my cheek.

I squeeze my eyes closed, and I know he can feel the tears as they spill down my face and touch his hand. I hope he understands.

Apparently he does, for suddenly two arms encircle me and a gentle hand brings my head down onto his shoulder.

I let out a shaky breath and close my eyes. "T-thank you…" I whisper.

"Your welcome, Harry," he answers quietly in return.

This time it's my turn to offer thanks to my ex-rival, just like I had a few nights ago, and I've never felt more grateful to have Malfoy on my side.


	10. From Within the Box: Part 1

"I'm sorry for freaking out on you like that." The sound of my voice breaks the silence in the Black Box some hours later.

Demonstrating a lack of embarrassment I never thought possible, I had actually fallen asleep in my cellmate's arms while he was comforting me. I awoke only a few minutes ago to find Draco sound asleep. I carefully disentangled myself and moved away when he began to stir from slumber.

"I didn't mean to act like such a Hufflepuff," I continue apologetically, listening to him yawn and shift about in the dark as he slowly regains consciousness.

"Forget it, Pot-Harry," he brushes off casually. "Anyone would have done the same after what you went through, or almost went through, yesterday."

"Well, thanks anyway, for helping me. I wouldn't have thought…" I stop.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what? You were going to say something."

I sigh and shift, stretching my legs out in front of me, my back resting against the dirt wall behind. "I just wouldn't have expected you to be so…"

"Helpful?" Draco snaps tersely.

"No. Self-less."

"Oh."

"Those guys are not small, they could have really hurt you."

Draco snorts and I can hear him shifting again. "I've had years of practice dealing with big over-grown thugs. Their kind may be big, but they're always dumb as doornails."

I chuckle, the tension easing. "The first time I saw those Carnal Boys I immediately thought of Crabbe and Goyle."

"Maybe they're related." I can hear the smile in Draco's voice.

"Yeah." I smile in return.

Silence falls once more.

"Hey, Malfoy-"

"What happened to first names?" he interrupts.

"Sorry, it's a hard habit to break – a habit of _seven years_, to be exact." I shake my head in disbelief. "I can't believe I've known you for that long…"

"Yeah, and you still don't really know me."

I smile wryly. "No, I guess not."

"What were you going to ask?" He says after a pause.

"What? Oh…I forget."

"Typical."

"Oh, wait! I was going to ask why you were there yesterday?"

"Where? In the loo?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want a number?"

I frown for a second then burst into laughter. "I thought that was a Muggle expression?"

"Probably is." Draco chuckles. "You'd be surprised at how many Muggle things have filtered into the Slytherin house. Being who we are, we have always been drawn to the forbidden, and what's more forbidden to us than the Muggle world? I suppose you could say that it's our way of rebelling."

I shake my head in amusement, still smiling. "You're right, I hardly know anything about you."

"Well, we do have two days of this torture, so we might as well make the best of it."

"True," I acknowledge. "Should we take turns spilling the goods, then?"

"How about a little game of Truth?"

"What's Truth?"

"It's Truth or Dare without the dare. I don't really think this little hole of a cell will afford much in the way of imaginative dares."

"Alright, who's going first?"

"I'll ask first, you just got that Muggle admission from me."

"Fine. Ask away."

"Hmm…" Draco is silent as he obviously tries to think up a really good question.

I suddenly feel a little apprehensive about this game. It could either end horribly; with us fighting and then not speaking to each other, or then again, maybe it could bring us closer together.

This whole trial situation is liable to build a really strong bond between us – _if_ we let it, that is. After today, I actually find myself wanting to have Draco as a friend - or maybe more importantly, think that we actually _could_ be friends.

"Okay, got one," Draco announces. "I'm going to start you off easy, though, Potter."

"Harry," I immediately interject.

"It might be Potter again after this dangerous little game." I can practically hear the smirk.

"That's what I'm afraid of," I say dryly.

"Okay, question one for the famous Harry Potter: is it true, that you are Dumbledore's great grandson?"

"What?" I don't know whether to laugh or not. "Are you serious?"

"Just answer the question."

"No. I am not in any way related to Dumbledore. Satisfied?"

"I suppose."

"Just where in the hell did you hear that?"

"Just one of the many rumours going around about you."

"Great." I roll my eyes, preparing myself for a long night of ludicrous questioning. Although, I will gladly take ludicrous over embarrassing any day.

"Your turn," Draco prompts impatiently.

"Wait a second." I purse my lips, thinking hard. What do I want to know about Draco Malfoy? Hmm… Oh, I know. "The question on every Hogwart's student's mind is: do you, Draco Malfoy, dye your hair?"

"What!" Draco practically screeches with indignation. "I do not, nor have I _ever_, dyed my hair! I am _naturally_ blond, and therefore naturally perfect."

"Sure." I roll my eyes, even though he can't see it. "Your turn."

"Dye my hair…" I can still hear him grumbling as I wait for the next question.

"Are you a virgin?"

Here we go. My body immediately tenses and I feel on edge. These kinds of questions can only going to lead to something bad.

"You have to answer," Draco prompts.

"Fine. Yes, I'm a virgin. Happy?" I say testily.

"Very," he replies smugly.

"Okay my turn," I say. "Are _you_ a virgin?"

"No."

"Should've know…" I mumble.

"My turn," Draco says happily. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

Now it's _my_ turn to feel smug. "Yes."

"Who?" Draco demands immediately, sitting up with interest.

"Sorry, it isn't your turn," I remind him unctuously. "Now let me see…" I say, drawing it out, taunting him, making him wait before he gets to ask his next question. I know he's just dying to know who it was that I kissed. "Okay, my question is: are you part Veela?"

"Where did that come from?" Draco asks, distracted.

"Just one of the many rumours going around about you. I'm not the only one who can induce gossip at that school."

"Well, the answer is no. There are no Veela in my family."

"Okay, you're turn." I sigh in resignation.

"Just who were you snogging Potter?" Draco asks immediately. I can just imagine the sparkling curiousity in his grey/blue eyes.

"It was more than one person," I answer loftily. "Which name do you want?"

"Your first one."

"Cho Chang."

"Cho Chang?" Draco repeats dumbly. "That Ravenclaw seeker?"

"Yep."

"But-"

"My turn," I interrupt smoothly. "Who was the lucky girl to steal your virgin status?"

"Pansy Parkinson," Draco answers stiffly, some underlying emotion clearly present.

I frown, but decide to leave it alone. "Your turn."

Draco is silent for a minute, then, "Are you really gay?"

Fuck. I knew this was going to come up at some point. I close my eyes bracingly. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because," he replies simply.

"Please ask me something else…"

"You are, aren't you?" Draco's voice isn't triumphant or cruel, just quiet, as if he was merely confirming a truth.

This boy isn't my friend yet. He could do any number of things with this information once we're out of here, and even while we're still in here. This could ruin the rest of my life. What would Ron and Hermione think? Or Dumbledore? Or Hagrid? I know they would be severely disappointed, along with the rest of the wizarding world.

But I can't deny it. He'll know I'm lying.

"Please don't tell anyone," I ask, hoping with all my heart that there is enough good in Draco for him to not hold this over my head.

"But…you kissed that Chang girl," he points out questioningly.

"No, she kissed me. I just went along with it - and hated it."

"Is that when you knew?"

"Knew what?"

"That you were, you know...queer."

"No, I had known it for awhile. That incident just confirmed it even more, just in case I was having any doubts."

He is silent, mulling over these new revelations.

"Your turn," he finally says aloud.

The mood in here has definitely shifted to something more serious.

I decide to go along with it.

"Why do you hate gay people?" I ask.

He sighs, and I get the feeling that he knew this question was coming. "Because…because they're sick, and it's wrong."

I wince and am suddenly glad that Malfoy can't see my expression. His words are like a sharp slap to the face. "So I disgust you?"

"No…I don't know…it's complicated," he says in frustration.

"What's so complicated? You either do or you don't. I don't like flubberworms, and probably never will, but I _know_ I don't like them."

"No, I don't like gays, but-"

"But what? If you hate gay men, then why did you help me yesterday? Why didn't you just let the Carnal Boys do what they wanted with me? I would've thought that as a gay person, I deserved that kind of punishment."

I am angry now. I've never been allowed to vent my feelings and outrage on this subject - one so close to my own heart - and now I find it erupting all at once. I want to understand the logic of people like Malfoy. I truly want to know what makes them think the way they do, how they can be so closed-minded about the human race and not think that individuality is a wonderful and refreshing thing that makes the world such a interesting place to live.

"Look, Potter, men and women are supposed to be together. That's the way the world is supposed to work. They get married, have babies, and that is what makes a family. Not two men together doing revolting things with their bodies."

"Sex?"

"It's not sex when two men do it." Malfoy shudders in disgust. "It's not natural."

"But it sure feels good," I add vindictively.

"How would you know, you're a virgin."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Malfoy!" I exclaim. "Why would they have sex if it didn't feel good? It's just as good as when straight men have sex – if not better."

"Better?" he chokes in disbelief.

"Yes – better. As a male, I know what feels good on my own body, so in theory, I know what also feels good on another man's body, much more than any girl would know. Plus, there aren't any of those stupid female head games involved."

"How do you know-"

"Cho," I answer simply. "She was a typical girl. We went out on a date and she spent the entire time gazing wistfully at another guy, then burst into tears and ran out on me."

"Why would you go out with her if you knew you were gay?"

"Because of people like you, Malfoy," I say, my words laced with steel. "You make people repress who they really are and force them to live a lie, to create a false front for the world. Do you really think that people would accept the Homosexual-That-Lived as their bloody hero?"

I hear a heavy sigh beside me. "Why does everything have to change? Why must people go looking for something they know is wrong?" He sounds as if he is speaking more to himself than to me.

I shake my head. "It's not a choice, Draco. Believe me, I would not have picked this for myself, I have enough to deal with."

He doesn't understand. He'll never understand.

"Look, I know I can't change your feelings, but I have to know if you'll keep my secret for me."

Another heavy sigh as I wait, feeling slightly nauseous with the tension.

"Alright. I promise I won't tell," he says finally.

I close my eyes, weak with relief. "Thank you."

There's an awkward silence.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that we could still be friends?"

"What are you, six years old, Potter?"

"You know what I mean." I smile hesitantly.

"Yes, we can still be friends," he says witheringly. "I'd ask you round for tea but I'm afraid I'm in prison at the moment."

I laugh. "God…I would kill for a cup of tea right now."

"Me too," Draco says wistfully.

I shift a little on the cold dirt floor. "Ouch," I hiss under my breath.

"What's wrong?"

"These bloody handcuffs are killing me," I explain. My arms are twisted and tender, my shoulders knotted and tense, and a dull headache is now pounding away due to the increasing soreness in my neck. "Let's talk about something else, I can't think about it or else the pain gets worse."

"I believe it's my turn, then," says Draco.

"Your…? Oh, the game," I reply listlessly.

'We don't have to-"

"No, it's okay. I think it's a good way for us to just get it all out in the open and be honest." I wince, rolling my head around in tiny circles to try and relieve the tight muscles.

"Yeah, okay…um, why aren't you mad at me?"

"For what?"

"You know, for saying that I don't like gay people."

I reflect carefully on his question before replying. "I'm not going to lie to you and say that what you said didn't…upset me, but I also know that if we're going to make it through this alive, then we need to put our differences aside. You already showed that it pays to have someone else watching your back in here. We help each other – that's how it works. And if you can ignore the fact that I'm gay, then I can ignore the fact that you are a prejudiced bigot."

"You _are_ mad," Draco states quietly.

I sigh. "No, I'm not. Just try to refrain from any more rude comments and I'll be fine. Really."

"Harry, I want you to know that there's a reason beyond what I told you, about why I don't like gay people-"

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you if you don't interrupt," he snaps. "But you can't tell anyone. You trusted me with your secret and I need to trust you with mine."

"It won't leave this room, er, hole. I swear."

He sighs, and I can tell he's working up the courage to proceed. "When I was home for the summer after our fourth year at school, I…I saw my father having sex with another man."

I raise a brow in surprise.

"I was trying to find my father to take me to Hogsmeade, and I accidentally walked in on him in his private study. He…he had this guy up against the bookshelves, and they…he…"

I listen, stunned, as Malfoy stops and shakes his head.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," I finally say, feeling awkward.

"I just wanted you to know why," he says shakily. "I never do anything without reason. And while I can't tell you everything, you have to understand that I was only fourteen and my carefully constructed world was crashing down all around me."

"S'okay." I smile. "This is as good a place as any to release your demons."

"Yeah, I suppose it is." Draco's breathing is still a little shaky, but he also sounds relieved.

"Is it my turn now?" I ask tentatively.

Draco smiles weakly. "Sure, why not?"

"Is that why you were even more horrid to me in fifth year?"

"Yeah," he admits quietly. "After that, I hated that you had this seemingly perfect life; where everyone loved you and no one kept secrets from you. I was so jealous." He pauses. "I can't believe I just told you that…"

I laugh. "You were jealous of an illusion, Draco. My life is far from perfect, very few people actually love me – I have yet to actually hear those words from someone's lips, by the way – and even Dumbledore has kept very important secrets from me. Secrets that affect my life – literally."

"The grass is always greener…" he surmises.

"Yep." Isn't that the truth.

"My turn. Who else have you kissed?"

I can't help but smile. It's almost as if the past few minutes and all its dramatic revelations never happened at all. We're back to gossiping about secret snogs in the Astronomy Tower. "Just one other person," I admit. "A boy."

"Who?" Draco asks curiously.

"I thought you didn't want to hear about things like that?"

"I don't want details, Potter. But I do want to know if it's someone we went to school with."

I sigh. "Alright. Yes it was someone from school, Colin Creevey to be exact."

Draco erupts into laughter as I blush horribly.

"Stop it!" I exclaim. "He had a huge crush on me and I wanted to know what it was like to kiss another bloke. He was also the only other gay person that I knew of at Hogwarts."

"Well, people don't go around advertising it," Draco exclaims between snickers.

"Would you stop laughing?"

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all.

"It's my turn," I say huffily. "Why did you sleep with Pansy Parkinson?"

That causes the laughter to stop. "I'm not answering that," he says with finality.

"What? You can't do that!"

"If I stop playing the game, I can." Is his only reply.

"Draco-"

"No, I don't want to play anymore."

"What happened to trusting me?"

"This is personal. Can we talk about something else now?"

"Fine," I agree grudgingly. "Like what?"

"Like how we're going to get those Carnal Boys back."

"Huh? Are you mental? I am not going after them."

"We could enlist the help of your new found friends," Draco persists.

"I don't know…we could get into trouble again."

"Don't you think they'd help out if we tell them what happened?"

"Probably. Well, Jack would anyway," I say, considering.

Draco pauses. "Do you like Jack?"

I blush for the second time in ten minutes. "No," I say feebly.

"You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"Sorry, we're not playing the game anymore," I answer, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "I'm under no obligation to tell you anything."

"Ooo…Potter wants to kiss the tall, dark convict," Draco sing-songs teasingly, then starts to laugh at his own joke.

"Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Shut-up."


	11. The Colour of Trust

I wake suddenly to the sound of screeching metal above my head. The trapdoor has been opened and I have to blink at the sudden intrusion of light. I hold a hand up to my eyes and watch as one of the guards appear.

"Get over here," he orders sharply. "Both of you."

I look over and see Draco also holding a protective hand up to his eyes. We both crawl forward and look up at the guard through the small opening, a wooden stepladder is then lowered down into the Box. My legs shake from sitting motionless for two days and it takes me a few tries to climb the steep steps, especially with the added handicap of not having my arms free for balance. When I step into the light I notice that the left lens of my glasses is cracked and broken. I was so out of it when the guard threw me in here two days ago that I didn't even hear them break, and of course with not having any light, I wouldn't have noticed any difference in my vision.

"Excuse me," I speak up while Draco is still climbing. "Can you remove these?" I turn my back to the guard and wiggle my shackled wrists.

"Sorry, Potter,' he sneers. "We have to keep you in the cuffs until you're back in your cell. Safety first, and all that."

I want to cry as the guard denies my request and now places Draco in handcuffs as well. The pain in my arms and shoulders has grown unbearable.

We stand and wait while he lifts the ladder and closes the trapdoor. I fervently hope that I will never be locked in there again.

Instead of being led to our cell, we are both taken to the visitor's room. Once inside, I can't help but whimper in relief as they finally remove the cruel steel from my wrists. Although hard to believe, the pain has actually increased now that I have the necessary freedom to move my arms around. Little darts of pain are now shooting through my muscles and tendons.

We both sit down at the metal table. I continue to massage my shoulders as best I can while we wait.

"At least they took the cuffs off this time," Draco offers, breaking the silence.

"I wonder why they let us in here without them today."

He shrugs. "Maybe it just depends on the particular guard."

"Maybe." I squint at the bright lights in annoyance. "Are your eyes hurting as much as mine?"

"Probably." Draco rubs at his eyes, and it's then I notice the redness of them. "Those bastards probably put us in here because it's the brightest room in Grace and they knew the light would affect us after being in that bloody box."

"Wouldn't doubt it." I snort in agreement, leaning my head to one side as I try to massage the kinks from my poor neck.

"I wonder who's coming to see us today?" Draco muses, eyes flicking to the door and back.

"Dunno."

"Well, whoever it is I hope they bring good news."

I stop what I'm doing to close my eyes with a sigh. "Maybe it's Dumbledore coming to tell us that they've caught the murderer and that we're free."

Draco smiles. "And when we return, I am presented with the Order of Merlin first class." I can tell he's picturing it all now; some grand presentation ceremony all in his honour.

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter, I deserve one just for being put through this. They owe me."

"What about me?" I ask pointedly.

"You get the Order of Merlin second class." He smirks.

"Thanks," I reply sarcastically.

"You'll always be second to me, Potter."

"You wish." I roll my eyes. "And you're supposed to be calling me, Harry, remember?"

"Yeah, alright." His smirk turns into a smile at my stubborn expression.

I turn in my seat as the door opens behind me. I suddenly grin as Lupin walks into the room. He looks exhausted, but seems happy to see me.

"Professor Lupin," I greet happily.

"You really need to stop calling me that, Harry." He smiles as he squeezes my shoulder before sitting down across from us. "What's wrong?" he asks, hearing my hiss of discomfort.

"It's…nothing. My shoulder's just a bit sore, that's all."

"And what happened to your glasses?" Lupin asks, frowning in concern.

"Er…I accidentally broke them."

I can feel Draco's gaze on me and I ignore his curious look.

"Hmm…just a minute." My former professor stands and walks to the door.

"Why didn't-"

"Shh!" I hiss at Draco. "I'll tell you later. Just don't mention anything about what happened, okay?"

He nods slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Remus converses with one of the on-duty guards quietly for a few minutes, then returns with his wand and two more guards, all of who are watching his every move.

"Give me your glasses, Harry,' Remus orders, holding out his hand. "Now, keep your eyes open wide and try not to flinch."

"What are you doing?" I ask nervously as he kneels before me, the tip of his wand pointing ominously between my eyes.

"I'm just going to use a little sight healing spell so that you won't have to worry about your glasses in here. It will be much more practical."

"Okay…" I hear myself answer.

Remus smiles reassuringly. "Okay, on the count of three – one, two, three!"

I focus on trying to keep my eyes open as Remus quietly mutters the spell. Strange white sparkles invade my vision and a kind of warm feeling flows over my eyes. It doesn't hurt, it just feels like I've opened my eyes underwater in a warm bath.

"There!" Remus announces triumphantly as the sparkles fade and the room suddenly comes into focus.

I look around me, blinking in amazement.

Remus hands his wand back to one of the guards and they swiftly leave the three of us alone.

"Better?" Remus asks me as he sits down.

"Much." I can't help but grin like an idiot. At least breaking my glasses will be one less thing to worry about.

"Why didn't you get that done sooner?" Draco asks.

I shrug. "I dunno. I didn't even know it was possible." I turn to Remus. "Why do some wizards wear glasses then?"

"The spell only lasts a couple of years at a time," Lupin explains. "And it's only safe to cast it about ten times at the most in your lifetime. So, if you keep it up on your own, Harry, you'll have to stop when you're about thirty-seven."

"If I ever reach thirty-seven," I grumble darkly.

Remus reaches across and puts a comforting hand over mine. "You will, Harry. Don't say that." He sighs heavily and pulls his hand away. "But I'm afraid I do bring some bad news with me today."

"Great, just keep heaping it on," Draco mutters sarcastically.

"What is it?" I ask, my eyes searching Remus' face.

He takes a deep breath and addresses us both. "There was an attack last night, on a group of muggles. It was horrific, to say the least. A group of Death Eaters swarmed a muggle movie theatre and tortured and killed everyone inside - children included."

"Oh god…" I breathe, stunned – and sickened.

"Anyway," Remus continues, looking quite ill himself. "The Ministry has been in a flurry of activity all night dealing with it. The worst part is that we didn't catch a single one. We had no warning at all. They weren't trying to bargain for anything, it was simply a demonstration of their power and ruthlessness."

"If only we'd had a spy in there…"

I glance at Draco as the blond trails off.

Remus shifts uncomfortably. "Yes…that would have been very useful."

"Does this have something to do with us?" I ask.

"Yes, unfortunately it does." He sighs and closes his eyes briefly. "Because the Ministry has precious few Auror's right now, as well as other policing personnel, they've decided to put your case on hold while they continue to investigate this. Their reason is that they've reached a stalemate in your case, as nothing concrete has been found so far."

"What?" I gape in shock. "They're…they're abandoning us?"

"No, Harry," Remus is quick to reassure. "It's just for a little while, plus your friends will still be working on it."

"This was deliberate," Draco suddenly says coldly.

"How do you mean?" I ask, turning to him.

"Whoever it was out there who killed Professor Snape, wanted to distract the Ministry so that they would leave us in here to rot."

Remus sighs again, raising a hand to rub tired eyes. "That thought did cross my mind as well."

"But that doesn't really help us in any way, since it's just supposition on our part," I finally say aloud into the gloomy silence. "Right?"

Remus nods and Draco crosses his arms over his chest, looking as though he's trying to comfort himself, or else withdraw into his own thoughts.

"How did you know it was Death Eaters if you didn't catch any of them?" I ask.

"They left their calling card."

"The Dark Mark," I state dully.

Remus nods and Draco's arms tighten around himself.

"What do you think it will take for them to return to our case?" I ask. "They can't honestly be holding out for the capture of every single D.E out there, as well as nabbing Voldemort himself."

"I'm not sure, Harry. Maybe until they capture one Death Eater and use Veritaserum on him, see if he knows anything about Professor Snape's murder."

"I hope the Auror's don't kill first and then ask questions later, because that could leave us in here…well, forever."

Draco suddenly nods, coming back to himself. "Yeah, if they unintentionally kill the person – or Death Eater, as we can probably assume – that is responsible, then we have no chance in hell of being freed."

The two of us both stare at Remus. I don't have to look at Draco to know that he has the same despondent expression dimming his eyes that I know has to be in mine. I don't care if I look hopeless and scared – because I bloody well am!

Remus shakes his head and reaches across for my hand once more, this time keeping his fingers pressed tightly to my own. "I will never give up on this - on you - Harry, because I know you're innocent. I'm with you until you're free, I can promise you that."

I start to smile, then realize that Remus forgot something - or rather - someone.

"And Draco, too," I add firmly.

Remus' eyes flick over to Draco and the blond stiffens, turning away. I smile inwardly as I watch brown eyes turn soft and a kind smile is suddenly sent in Draco's direction. I know now that Remus believes me, that he is going to work for the both of us to be free. It's not just his best friend's son in prison anymore, it's two seventeen year olds in need of help.

"Of course," he says, eyes still on Draco's down-turned face. "Like I said, I'm with you 'til the end – _both_ of you. I know only too well what it's like to be ostracized because of something you have no control over, like a disease…or maybe a name," he adds with quiet understanding.

Draco looks up and readily meets Remus' gaze. Although there is no outward change of emotion, Draco's nod of acceptance means a lot more than words or tears could ever convey.

"I'll leave you boys now," Remus says, careful to address us both. "And I'll try to visit as often as I can, to update you, or even just so you can see a familiar face."

I smile and rise from my seat as Remus walks around the table. He embraces me and I close my eyes for second as I bury my face into his chest, inhaling a scent that is familiar, and something other than the depressing stench of an all-male prison. The smell of him reminds me of Hogwarts and those wonderful days that now seem a world away.

I stagger a little when the warmth is taken away.

Draco looks a little uncomfortable as Remus pats him on the shoulder in passing, but I can't help but wonder if deep down he is pleased.

Remus smiles one last time, then he is gone.

The handcuffs are replaced and the long procession back to our cell begins. Only…where are we going?

Draco beats me to it.

"Where are we going?" he asks, keeping a fear out of his voice that I know I would not have been able too.

"There's been a change of plans, boys," the guard answers with a smirk. "We're moving you to a new home."

"Why?" I ask, mouth suddenly dry.

"Because we don't like babying people in this institution. It is much more practical to put as many criminals as we can into one cell."

"But Dumbledore-"

The hard, wooden club of the guard behind me suddenly jabs me in the lower back. "Enough questions. Keep your fucking mouth shut, Potter."

I stumble a little, but keep walking. Concentrating on Draco's blond head ahead of me.

Unbidden, my mind starts to wander, thinking up different scenarios, each one worst than the last. I have to fight back the urge to ask another question as the thought of being put with those Carnal Boys enters my mind.

I honestly don't know what I would do if I had to live and sleep in the same cell as them. It would probably kill me – or they would.

"Get in."

I blink, realizing that I had completely zoned out there for awhile. I look up and breathe out in relief when I see that the Carnal Boys are not the faces looking back at me from within our new cell. In fact, there is one very welcome face.

"Amari!" I smile as the guard removes my handcuffs and I walk inside.

"Bakari." Amari takes me by the shoulders and looks into my face. "It is good to see you. I had heard that you and your friend had been put in the Box."

"Yeah." I nod, trying not to think about that tiny room that holds nothing but darkness.

"But you were together, so – not so bad, my friend." Amari looks up and includes Draco in his wise gaze and warm smile.

Draco sidles over, carefully looking over the other prisoners in the cell.

Amari watches him. "They are all right, friend. Old, like me. But perhaps not so handsome."

I laugh and Draco raises a brow at him.

"Come, have something to eat."

My mouth drops open in surprise as Amari crouches down and lifts one end of the mat at our feet. Underneath is a small, crude hole, filled with an assortment of food and snacks.

"I pried up one of the old stones," Amari explains, smiling at my expression. "Each of us now carries a small piece of every meal back to our room."

"Your _room_?" Draco repeats with another raise of his brow.

"Yes. We do not like to call it a 'cell,' it is now our home. Our room. This is our sanctuary, the bars keep the guards out."

"Unless they have a key," Draco mutters at me out of the side of his mouth.

I snort and quickly put a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound.

Amari lifts some of the food from the hole and holds it out for each of us to take.

Draco and I both settle on the floor to eat our little impromptu lunch. I feel almost ravenous with hunger now that I have food in my hands once more. I practically inhale the horrendous prison food, but at this point, it practically tastes gourmet. I've never seen Draco eat so fast in my life, forgoing his usual perfect manners and scarfing it down with bare, dirty hands.

Amari watches over us in satisfaction. "Just make sure the vark do not see you eating here. We always turn our backs to the door while we eat, and check before we open the secret hole."

"Vark?" I question, licking my finger.

"Vark – it is our name for the guards here. It is my native tongue, and the word means 'pigs.' They do not know what it means and so are not offended. It is merely another way for us to feel as though we have some power over these soulless creatures."

I nod, smiling slowly. "Yeah…I'll be sure to call them that from now on. What other bad words can you teach us?"

Draco looks up in interest as he wipes his hands on his prison trousers.

"That is enough, friends. It is time to go out into the yard for some much needed fresh air. I think that you both are looking forward to going outside again after your punishment, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess." I sigh reluctantly. I had been hoping for some nasty words to use against the guards, and maybe even the Carnal Boys, without them having a clue what I was saying. I guess I could always use Parseltongue….but that could create more problems then it's worth.

Amari stands and we also rise to our feet, walking over to the cell door and waiting for it to open. I nod a greeting to the other occupants of our 'room,' but they look a little….spaced out.

"What's with them?" I whisper to Amari, still frowning slightly as I watch the other inmates.

Amari looks saddened as he answers. "They have been in here a very long time. Longer than myself. After awhile a person can lose their mind in here. I think, maybe, that some do it on purpose - to escape."

"Are they innocent?" I ask, curiously.

"Ah, that is the question, Bakari. That is the question."

I look at Amari to see if he is going to explain further. He doesn't. I glance at Draco and see him back away from Amari and the rest of our new cellmates.

I smile in amusement and catch his eye. He lifts a finger to his temple and circles it in the air to demonstrate just how completely crazy he thinks they all are.

I just shrug and smile. We could've been stuck with much worse company than these senile old wizards. _Much_ worse.

The air outside in the yard hits me like….well, like a breath of fresh air. It feels wonderful to feel wind again, and air, and to be able to walk around and move, and see. I keep having to restrain myself from reaching up to adjust my glasses, I keep forgetting that they're not there. It's a very strange feeling.

"How you doing, boys?" Jack calls out as the three of us approach, a lit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

I smile and wave. Draco smirks at me and I glare at him in return.

"Hope they didn't treat you too badly," Little Slick quips, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"They didn't take Harry's handcuffs off," Draco replies right away.

I elbow him sharply. "Ow! What the fuck was that for?" Draco cries, rubbing his side.

"They did _what_?" Jack demands, looking pissed off.

"It's okay," I say hurriedly. "It was only for two days."

"Bastards." They nod their heads in agreement and I glare one more time at Malfoy.

"What?"

I shake my head. "Not here," I say quietly. I turn back to Jack. "Want to play Stones, Jack?" I suggest brightly.

"Sure, squirt." Jack grins roguishly and empties his pockets of his collection of smooth rocks used for the game.

We all sit down and play about five rounds of Stones before we are called back inside. I can't help but feel as though Draco is watching me the entire time, but every time I sneak a glance at the blond, he is looking the other way.

I shake my head. _Not long now, Harry, before you're able to join the mental party currently going on in your new cell._

I snort at my inner voice. Another sure sign that I'm losing it.

Once back in our cell, Amari announces that he's off to take advantage of one of the two allotted shower times during the day. I grab Draco's sleeve as he also makes to leave.

"What?" he asks, annoyed.

"We need to talk," I say importantly.

"Aw, are you breaking up with me, Harry?"

I roll my eyes. "No, _Draco_, I just think that there are a few things that we still need to talk about."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I still need to have a shower. I've gone two days without."

"No, you can't." I grab at his sleeve again. "We should take advantage of the fact that Amari is going to be away for awhile."

Draco sighs dramatically, as if making the biggest sacrifice in history. "Fine, if we must."

"Good." I nod, releasing his arm. "Let's sit down."

We both drag one of the mats over under the window, the furthest away from the other loonies in here, and sit down facing each other.

"I thought we got everything off our chests yesterday," Draco says first.

"Hardly," I reply. "I don't know about you, but if we're going to be able to trust each other, I think you should know everything about me."

"And in return, you want to know everything about me, is that it?" Draco asks coolly.

"No," I exclaim. "I don't care if you only tell me your favourite colour, I just want us to trust each other. That's all."

Draco relaxes slightly. "Fine. Tell me something then."

I take a deep breath and push down the urge to strangle the boy. "Alright." I glance quickly at our cellmates, lowering my voice as a precaution. "But everything we learn right now still falls under that 'I swear not to tell upon penalty of death' rule. Same as yesterday, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Draco nods, looking impatient.

"Okay." I swallow once, gathering my courage and hoping that I'm not making a horrible mistake by divulging this to him. "Do you remember when Dumbledore came to see us our first week here?"

He nods.

"Well, do you also remember when he asked me not tell the court something? A secret, that I was to keep from them?"

Draco's eyes widen a fraction, but he answers in a careless tone. "Yeah."

I lick my lips. "Okay, this is it." I pause, uncertainly. "Do you _really_ promise-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just get on with it, Potter!"

I lean in closer and start talking before I can change my mind. "When I was fifteen I found out that a prophecy had been made before my birth, a prophecy about me and Voldemort."

Draco also leans in, interested despite his best efforts.

"Dumbledore was one of two people who heard the prophecy being made, and he finally told me at the end of the school year what it said. It goes something like this: _'__The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'_

"Holy shit…" Draco says, looking stunned, and just a little awed.

"Yeah," I agree, my voice shaky. "So now I am expected to rid the world of Voldemort once again, only this time he knows who I am, what I'm capable of, and of course, my weaknesses." I shut my eyes against the sudden image of Sirius.

"Harry?"

"There's more." I open my eyes, forcing myself to continue. "In my third year at Hogwarts, I found out that I had a godfather, who had been a very dear friend of my father's at school. His name is…_was_, Sirius Black."

Draco seems to be searching my face for something, perhaps to see if I am kidding.

"And then," I continue, now staring at my hands. "I find out that he's not the mass murderer everyone suspected him of being, he was framed….much like us, I guess. He was wonderful to be around. A perfect godfather, I guess you could say. But…when I said that Voldemort knew my weaknesses, I wasn't lying. He knew about Sirius. He tricked me into thinking that he had Sirius trapped at the Ministry of Magic, and of course, being the idiotic person that I am, I went chasing after him – with no thought as to whether it was true or not." I have to close my eyes again. The scene replaying in full technicolour in my mind.

"So, I show up and it turns out that it was of course a trap. A trap set to lure me away from Dumbledore and everyone else that was trying so hard to protect me from falling for exactly that. My friends – my poor, faithful friends – even came with me. I brought them into that whole mess." My eyes clench tighter. "They were hurt, all of them. And Sirius…Sirius fell through this…black veil. And now he's gone. D-Dead."

I open my eyes and stare back at Draco. "I don't want to tell Remus about the Box or anything else in here that might make him upset because there's nothing he can do about it and he'll just feel badly. He has enough to deal with right now. Sirius was his best friend, and he only just got him back before he was taken away again – for good."

Draco opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

"I don't have some stupid crush on Jack. He reminds me so much of Sirius that it hurts, and I just want to be his friend. Maybe it's stupid, and maybe it's a pathetic attempt to replace my godfather, I don't really know, but I'm past caring. Not only is the only real father I've ever known dead because of me, but I am also expected to kill the most evil and powerful wizard of our time, and right now I'm stuck in prison for a crime I didn't commit and may never get out."

I breathe heavily as my tirade comes to an end.

Draco stares at me for a second, then, "Harry?"

"What?"

"My favourite colour is blue."

I let out a half sob, half laugh and look up at him.

He smiles tentatively. I smile back.

And then we begin to talk.


	12. Cell Block Tango

"It's so strange to think that all this was going on in your life and I had no idea."

"You had no idea? I would've thought that your father told you everything."

We are now both sitting with our backs against the stone walls of the cell, facing our cellmates, who seem to be inspecting a small pebble lying harmlessly by the single set of bunk-beds.

I know it's wrong, but I can't help but snicker at how strange they're acting. They're like older, male versions of Luna.

Draco smirks as they poke at the pebble with a tiny stick.

"No, he only told me what he thought I needed to know. I'm sure even _he_ didn't know half the things you've told me, like that stuff about your relatives. Didn't Dumbledore know how your muggle family was treating you?"

"To some extent, yes, but maybe not as bad as it did get at times."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"It wouldn't have mattered, he couldn't have moved me anyway because I was protected there."

"Why didn't he just keep you at Hogwarts? Then he could watch over you himself."

"You mean once I'd found out that I was a wizard and everything?"

"Yeah."

I shrug, still watching the pebble poking. "I dunno. I'm sure Dumbledore didn't want to spend the summer babysitting me, I'm sure he has better things to do, more important things. Or maybe he thought I needed a family to go home to once and awhile, so I could get a break from it all."

"But you would have rather stayed at school, right?"

"Definitely," I answer firmly.

We both laugh as one of the inmates puts the pebble into their mouth then spits it out in disgust.

"I hope they spring me before I go _that_ psycho." Draco snickers.

"Can you imagine how long they've been here to become that loopy?"

"Nope, I honestly can't. I wonder what they did to get locked up?"

"I have no idea, Amari wouldn't tell me."

"And that's another thing, what's _he_ in here for?"

I turn to look at Draco. "I didn't ask, but I'm dying to know. I can not imagine that man doing anything that would be suspicious or even remotely illegal."

Draco nods his head in agreement. "He doesn't seem the criminal type."

"Then again, neither do we, and look where we are…"

"True."

I smile and sneak my hand under the mat to grab another piece of bread from the secret stash. I tear it in half and hand over the other piece to Draco.

"So what about your childhood?" I ask, conversationally. "What was it like?"

"Full of beatings, dark magic, and blood ceremonies."

I whip my head to the right, eyes wide. "What?"

Draco bursts into laughter. "Potter, you are priceless! Do you always believe everything you're told?"

"No," I reply sulkily, feeling foolish.

Draco smiles and chews on his bread thoughtfully before answering. "Believe it or not, my childhood was actually pretty good - up until my fourteenth year, that is. My parents kept me from anything too dangerous, or too gruesome, which had the unfortunate side-effect of causing me to believe that the Dark side wasn't all that bad. I thought it was exciting, you know? Sneaking around in black cloaks and going on missions."

"Like it was all just some kind of game?"

"Yeah, sort of. I mean, I knew people died, I wasn't _that _naïve. But I always pictured these nameless wizards that were of no importance, and murdering them was just part of the mission. There had to be casualties along the way – they knew it and I knew it."

"Never thinking that _you_ might be one of those casualties."

"The thought never crossed my mind. My dad always told me that he would be there with me, to help me, and to protect me, as long as I was fighting for the cause."

My gaze shifts past Draco's face and out the tiny window as I shake my head with a frown. "What a twisted existence we both share; we were both lied to all our lives, forcing complexes on us that we really don't deserve."

"What's your complex, Potter? Heroic tendencies?"

"No," I say sharply. "Trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm not responsible for everything that happens to the people around me."

"Ah, a guilt complex, then. Who do you feel responsible for?" 

"My friends, the ones I've already lost and the ones whose lives are in danger because of me. Even people I hardly know can get caught in the crossfire."

"Like Diggory?"

"Yeah…like Cedric." It hurts a little bit every time I say his name. Maybe it's my punishment.

"And…your godfather?"

"And Sirius…" Another stab of pain, another victim to fall under Voldemort's hand while I stood by and watched.

Draco lets out a low whistle. "Shit…I'm glad I'm not responsible for the safety of the world."

"Thanks, that helps a lot," I answer dryly, giving him a withering glare.

"Hey, better in your hands than in mine." He smirks.

"Why's that?"

"Because when the shit hits the fan, I'll be looking out for one person and one person only."

"Yourself."

"That's right. What's the point of saving the world if you're not here to enjoy it?"

"That is the most selfish…" I trail off, shaking my head in wonder. "You really are a piece of work, Malfoy. You know that?"

"Thanks." He smirks proudly. "Didn't you know that Gryffindors were put here to save the world while Slytherins are here to run it?"

"Feels like it." I snort, rolling my eyes at the smug blond.

"We don't like to get our hands dirty."

"Oh yeah?" I pick up Draco's wrist and hold up one pale-skinned and filthy palm.

He quickly grabs it back and sends me a glare. "There are exceptions when under certain circumstances, obviously. But I still manage to make this look good, which is more than I can say for you."

"Draco, you haven't brushed your teeth in about a week – nobody makes that look good," I shoot back.

"Well, at least my hair doesn't look like a rat took up house on the top of my head and died."

"Yeah? Well, just so you know, loads of people have told me that my hair is irresistibly cute."

Draco snorts, his eyes flicking up to my tangled locks and back. "I'd take sexy over cute any day."

"Did someone actually say this to you, or is that just something you say to yourself when you look in the mirror?"

"Loads of people have said it…and I happen to agree."

I laugh and have the strongest urge to reach out and mess up those silvery strands even more. I don't know how his hair manages to look windblown and sexy while mine just looks…well, like the body of a dead rat that I haven't yet removed.

Did I just think of Draco as sexy?

Okay, Harry, go over and join the loony bin in the corner.

"Harry?"

"Huh?" I snap out of it and blink stupidly at the frowning blond beside me.

"I just asked you something."

"Oh…what?"

"What were you thinking about?" He asks curiously.

"N-Nothing. What did you ask me?"

"I was just remarking on how far we've strayed from our original topic."

"What? Our childhoods?"

"Yeah. You never finished telling me about when you first found out you were a wizard."

"Oh…" I lean back and cross one ankle over the other, eyes back to watching the amusing antics of our cellmates. "There's not much to tell really. My uncle refused to let me have my Hogwarts letter, even taking us all out to this remote little rock in the middle of the ocean to do it. Hagrid showed up at the door, with my very first birthday cake and my letter. He told me everything; about being a wizard, this whole other secret world that I had no knowledge of, how my parents died, Voldemort, Dumbledore – everything. And he took me to Diagon Alley, bought me an owl for my birthday, and gave me my ticket for the Hogwarts express. I spent the rest of the summer waiting anxiously at home until September first, I met Ron at the station and the rest is history."

"You forgot to mention me," Draco pointed out.

"You?"

"Yeah, in Diagon Alley."

"Ah…" I smile at the memory. "And I met this rich spoiled brat who I hated instantly at the robe shop. The first thing I thought when I met you, was that you reminded me of my cousin Dudley."

"The big, fat whale boy?" Draco asks, insulted.

"Not your looks, stupid, the way you acted; rude and cruel, not to mention superior and haughty."

"But I looked good."

"Actually, I thought your chin was a little pointy," I say, trying not to laugh.

Draco's eyes widen and he instantly brings a hand to inspect his perfectly normal chin. "You're such a liar, Potter," he says, eyes narrowing at me.

"I'm not lying," I exclaim innocently. "But don't worry, you've grown into it now."

"Hmph." Draco grumpily turns his head away.

"Aw, come on." I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder. "Don't be so sensitive. You haven't told me about _your_ childhood yet – give me a happy baby Draco memory."

Draco's face softens. "Like what?" he asks.

"How would I know? Tell about the time you…went to the zoo."

"I never went to the zoo." Draco frowns, then smiles. "But I did go to the place where they keep all the dangerous and exotic creatures that they've confiscated before they're killed."

"Killed?" I swallow, wondering how this could possibly fall under the 'happy memory' category.

"Oh don't look like that, Potter. I was eight years old, my father didn't show me the actual killing part. He brought me around to see all the amazing animals."

"That sounds pretty cool."

"It was." Draco leans his head back as he reminisces. "I thoroughly enjoyed myself. All these magical beasts that no one else was allowed to see or touch, and here I was, eight years old, and I was right up close. Seeing them for the last time. And my father just stood and watched me with them, smiling. I think he was proud that I wasn't afraid. I was a little, but I knew he wouldn't let them hurt me. It was the last time he took me somewhere, just the two of us, where I could act like a kid and he just smiled and…was there. He seemed colder as I grew up, not harsh or mean, but…like there was this distance between us that wasn't there before."

I watch Draco closely as he talks about his dad. I want to know what the man was really like as a father.

"Right before I turned eleven, he ordered the house elves to remove all the toys from my room. He said that I was to start acting like a man since I would be going away to school for almost ten months of the year. I didn't argue, I wanted to make him proud, but…"

"What?" I prompt curiously.

"It wasn't just the toys that he took away. I didn't realize this until after I'd learned what my father really was, but he took away anything he considered even remotely 'un-masculine'."

"Like what?"

"My mom."

"Your…?"

"She suddenly wasn't around all that much anymore. I mean, she wasn't before either, but suddenly she wasn't at meals with me. We used to sit and talk in the afternoons when she wasn't planning dinner parties or shopping or whatever it was that she did, but that stopped, too. He took away my horse, all my clothes had to be black – no colour. He took away my paint and canvases…"

"You paint?" I ask in surprise.

"Not anymore," he answers bitterly. "I loved painting…" he trails off quietly.

"And you think he did all that to…ensure your heterosexuality?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He says, turning to me. "For awhile I tried to console myself with the thought that maybe he did it because he wanted me to be happy, and not have to live the life that he did. But I think he did it because he really can't stand gay people, and it tears him up inside that he himself is gay."

"But…" I chew my lip thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter what people do to form a person's character, you're sexuality isn't some kind of life choice, you don't turn thirteen and then answer either yes or no to being gay. It's just how you're born."

"That wasn't going to stop him," Draco says. "He was going to make me straight or die trying."

"And did he succeed?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Draco whips his head around, his eyes icy cold. "There was nothing for him to fix, Potter. I'm not gay. I slept with a girl, remember?"

Just who are you trying to prove it to, Draco?

"Right. Never mind." I say, wanting to get off that subject. "Tell me more about your father."

"Like what?" He says, turning away, shoulders still tense.

"Like…where he and your mum met."

"Well, leave your romantic fantasies at the door, Potter." Draco says humourlessly.

"It's Harry," I remind him. "And why's that?"

"Because it was an arranged marriage."

"Oh."

"Most of the pure-blood families – well, the self-respecting ones that is – continue with the arranged marriage tradition. That was the only way wizards married at one time, before they began to marry muggles." Draco grimaces in disgust.

"Not allowed to marry outside the faith?" I smile.

"What?" Draco frowns.

"Nevermind." I shake my head. "So…do _you _have an arranged…erm, wife somewhere waiting for you?"

"No. She's dead."

"What?" I turn to him in shock.

"Her parents were both followers of Voldemort and he had the entire family killed because he was displeased with them."

"But surely she-"

"Doesn't matter with that psycho, Harry. You should know that. He doesn't care about age or sex or anything. After she was…disposed of, my parents didn't have the time to go out looking for a new bride for me – my dad being in Azkaban and my mum being dead, and all."

"Would you really have married her?" I ask.

"Of course." Draco shrugs.

"Was she…nice?"

"Dunno. I never met her. I never even saw a picture of her, I have absolutely no idea what she looked like. It's kind of strange…"

"What a stupid tradition," I mutter.

"How's that?"

"You don't think being forced to marry someone is a bad idea? Didn't you learn from your own parents that being forced into a marriage results in an unhappy life and unhappy children? It's not fair to the kids, and it's not fair to the parents either."

Draco shifts uncomfortably. "Look, can we talk about something else?"

I bite my bottom lip and lean back against the wall. "Sure…if you like."

But we don't talk anymore. We sit in silence and watch our cellmates, who have now settled down for a good hour of watching the flies buzz around the toilet. We share a disgusted glance but don't speak.

Amari finally returns and walks into the cell with a pleasant smile.

"Hello boys. Have you settled in alright?"

"Oh yes, we've had a ball watching those mental patients over there. They're better than the telly."

Amari gives me a surprised look as he sits down on the bunk bed across from us.

"So…do you take turns sleeping in the beds?" Draco asks with a winning smile.

Amari's dark brown eyes shift to Draco. "No. I sleep in the top bed and Liam sleeps in the bottom. Ian there, sleeps on that mat."

"And where am _I_ supposed to sleep?" Draco demands, upset that he wasn't even being offered the use of one of the beds.

"There is still one mat left for the two of you."

"What?" Draco gapes. "You have got to be kidding. I am not sharing that tiny scrap of fabric with Pot-Harry. It's too small!"

"You will make it work, friend." Amari smiles in amusement.

Draco looks to me, as if waiting for me to say something.

I merely shrug in response. _What can you do?_

Draco rolls his eyes with a sigh.

Amari hides a laugh.

"It's time for dinner. Let us go."

Draco and I follow Amari down to the dining hall and join our usual group of friends at one of the tables.

I seat myself in between Jack and Trip, laughing as I hear the two of them arguing over who was the true inventor of Stones.

"You should patent it, you could make a fortune," I interrupt.

"Yeah." Jack smiles slowly. "When I get out of here, that's the first thing I'm gonna do. Set myself up a little business and make a ton of cash."

"And I'll sue your ass for stealing my idea."

"It was _not _your idea, Trip," Jack says in exasperation.

"This could go on forever," Draco mutters to me from across the table.

I smile and nod in agreement.

"How are you doing, Bakari? I heard they put you two in a new cell." Harshad leans down the table, talking over the two arguing men beside me.

"Yeah," I answer loudly. "They put us in with Amari."

"Well, that's good," Little Slick speaks up. "You could've done worse."

"That's what I said."

"Too bad you're not with us," Jack says, stopping his arguing long enough to listen in. "Me and Little Slick have a ball taking the piss out of our roommates."

"I'll bet." I chuckle. "Yours must be the party cell."

"Too right." Jack winks.

I force another mouthful of gloppy mush into my mouth and swallow. I would gladly take Hagrid's rock cakes over this…this…I don't even know what it is, or what it's even _supposed _to be.

"Ugh…"

I look up and grin at the look of disgust on Draco's face as he examines his forkful of mush.

"What _is_ this?" he asks.

"I think it used to be potatoes at some point," I say.

"Nah, I'd go with glue," Trip says authoritively.

"But not just glue," Little Slick cuts in. "Glue mixed with something else…"

"Snot?" I suggest helpfully.

"Phlegm?"

"Ew!" I burst into laughter and elbow Jack in the ribs.

Jack elbows me back.

"Ow!" I glare and elbow him again – harder.

Before he can retaliate, a big splat of mush lands right on my cheek and begins to ooze down.

I don't need to turn around. I know bloody well who that was.

I load up my fork and whip the vile stuff straight at Draco's face. He tries to duck, but it catches him on the neck. He smirks at me and begins to scoop some more food onto his fork. I do the same.

In fact, I notice that our entire group seems to suddenly have the need to put quite a lot of food on our forks.

I smile, and brace myself for the attack.

Suffice it to say, when Draco and I got back to our cell that evening, we were both quite giddy and silly.

Amari picks up one of the books he got off the book cart and begins to read it as he lounges comfortably on his bed. Draco and I can't stop giggling as we wash our faces in the hand basin. And our hands, and necks, hair, clothes, arms…

Draco suddenly reaches out and wipes his wet hands on my shirt.

I give him an evil look, then with a parting smirk, run over and throw myself onto the last available sleeping space.

"We're supposed to share, Potter." Draco glares mockingly.

I stick out my tongue and fold the mat up and around myself.

"You look like a pig in a blanket." Draco laughs.

"I feel like one." I laugh from the floor.

Draco gives an exaggerated sigh and strides over. "Okay, Potter…"

"Har-ahhh!" I screech as Draco suddenly plops down on top of me. "Ow!"

"You really should learn to share," Draco says smugly from atop my back.

"Oof! Get off! Your heavy!" I whine.

"Sorry, no can do."

"Draco!"

"Harry."

I laugh at the same time as I'm protesting. Draco folds his arms over his chest and smiles unconcernedly.

Amari sighs and lowers his novel. "What do you two think this is? Summer camp?"

"Isn't it?" Draco asks in feigned confusion.

I laugh helplessly, still stuck in the rolled up mat. "Please let me out, Draco! It smells in here!"

Draco laughs and slides off of me to the bare stone floor.

I unroll the mat and throw it on top of the laughing blond.

"Ew!" He tosses it off of himself and back towards me.

Amari sets his book aside and stands up.

"Alright, children. It's almost lights out, you need to settle down or you'll never get to sleep."

"We are not children," Draco huffs indignantly.

"Yeah." I nod. "We're hardened criminals."

"That's right." Draco smiles. "Jailbirds."

"Felons."

"Thugs."

"Street toughs."

"Street toughs?"

"Yeah…"

"We're not in a musical, Potter."

I stick my tongue out at him again and start humming the theme to West Side Story.

"What is that?"

"West Side Story."

"Ah…" Draco's face brightens. "Jets and Sharks."

"How did you know?"

"All the girls in Slytherin are into musicals, well, the tragic musicals. I hate them, but those bloody tunes are now ingrained into my head." Draco stops and grins at me. "How do _you_ know them so well?"

I almost say because I'm gay – but I don't.

"My aunt." I shrug. Which is true, no need to mention the fact that I actually liked some of the songs.

"You should have hummed something from that musical that actually takes place in a prison."

"Which one is that?" I frown, thinking.

"I dunno, but it's an all female prison."

"Are you sure that isn't just some fantasy you have?" I tease.

Draco laughs as he wrinkles his nose. "That sounds like a porno movie."

"Oh, so you know about porno movies, as well?"

"Of course."

We both erupt into laughter again. I'm sure we're both picturing the other in their common room, crowded around a transfigured telly and watching muggle porn.

"I think prison porn is more along Zabini's line of fantasy."

"Why's that?" I ask between giggles.

"His fantasy's always involve leather and punishment."

"Ew! I did not need to know that!"

We both start laughing again.

"Okay, that's enough boys." Amari stands over us disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry," I gasp, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but everything seems absolutely hilarious."

"Maybe they spiked our water," Draco suggests.

"I think you both need a good night's sleep," Amari says firmly.

"Oh, it's going to take me forever to fall asleep," I groan. I am way too wired to even think about sleeping.

"I have an idea." Amari walks over and picks up our mat. "I will teach you boys a meditation technique to calm and soothe the soul. It is helpful in times of stress or fear, as well as when you need to calm the body and try to sleep."

"Alright." I sit up and watch the older man settle the mat on the floor closest to the window. He seats himself cross-legged on the edge of the mat and beckons to us.

Draco and I walk over and sit down next to him to complete the circle.

"It's so bloody cold," Draco complains, rubbing his arms.

"Shh!" Amari silences him. "Now, you must join hands and close you eyes."

I bite my lip to keep from snickering as I take up one of Draco's hands and one of Amari's. Amari closes his eyes. I glance to my left at Draco and see that he's also trying to keep in some very obvious laughter.

I quickly close my eyes and try to concentrate on Amari's voice.

"Listen to the air. Feel the moonlight on your face. You are in an open field, all alone, with nothing but the sound of the wind in your ear. There are stars up above you, millions of them, glittering up there in the heavens. The earth is warm and soft beneath you. You are safe. You are at peace…"

Draco suddenly squeezes my hand really hard and I snort out loud.

I open my eyes and quickly apologize, but Amari isn't even looking at me, he seems to be lost in the meditation.

I glance at Draco and he closes his eyes, letting out a loud fake snore.

I snort again and quickly bite my lip.

This time Amari does open his eyes.

"We will continue this tomorrow, I think." Is all he says.

I feel a little bad now. He _was_ trying to help us.

Amari stands and returns to his bunk bed.

"Goodnight, Amari," I say. "Thank you. I think we'll be much better tomorrow."

Amari smiles. "Goodnight, Bakari. Sleep well. Goodnight, Draco."

I drag the mat back over to the other wall and Draco comes over to stare down at it with me.

"So, how are we going to do this?" he asks.

"Back to back?" I suggest.

"Okay." Draco sighs as he kneels down and squishes over as far as he can get, while still lying on the mat's surface.

I roll my eyes and lie down next to him; back to back as promised.

"You'd better not molest me in my sleep, Potter."

"I'll try not to, _Malfoy_."

"So sorry, I meant, _Harry_."

"You're forgiven – _Draco_."

We both chuckle lightly as we close our eyes and try to sleep. Draco's back is warm and comforting against mine and I can't help but feel a little glad that there weren't enough beds to go around.


	13. Confusion Thy Name is Harry

. 

For the first time in a long time, nightmares do not disturb my sleep. In fact, I don't dream at all.

I slowly become aware of the quiet early morning activity of the prison and yawn while keeping my eyes closed, not quite ready to face the world just yet.

So warm…so comfortable…so…_cuddled_?

I snap my eyes open and almost gasp aloud when I see Draco's face not two inches from my own. I stare unblinkingly at his peacefully sleeping expression. Simultaneously, I become aware of an arm draped over my chest, and if I'm not mistaken, that's a leg thrown half-hazardly on top of my own.

Okay, so I _am_ having a nightmare.

I try to make my body relax, hoping not to disturb the clearly oblivious Malfoy in front of me.

_Okay, Harry,_ I think to myself rationally. _I just have to disentangle myself from Draco without waking him up and then pretend none of this ever happened._

But even as I think this, another part of me suddenly pipes up and asks just why I feel the need to leave this comfortable little position. I didn't _consciously_ put myself into this situation. I'm not at fault.

Oh god, he's going to think that I molested him after all.

I chew my lip and bring my eyes back up to Draco's face.

This is quite comfortable actually…and warm… 

Okay, I'll just stay here a little longer, no harm in that. He won't wake for at least another fifteen minutes. I'm not doing anything wrong. It's cold in here, and they don't provide us with blankets or heating, so this is perfectly normal.

I relax further and allow myself to smile a little at the surreal situation. Malfoy would be horrified if he knew what he was currently doing. I swallow down the tiny chuckle threatening to escape. It's too bad he's so homophobic, or else we could always sleep like this. It's such a pleasant way to wake up in the morning; being held. Even if it is by Draco Malfoy. I guess in prison you really do take comfort where you can find it.

And he's not so bad, really. He's been very civil the last couple of days. For Malfoy, that is.

I realize that I'm still staring at him with a goofy smile on my face, and it suddenly hits me what this would look like if someone were to walk by.

I don't even think about him in that way. That would be laughable and…and…just really wrong.

I chuckle to myself, my breath dislodging a few strands of hair from Draco's head and onto his face. I reach out and carefully push the blond pieces back off of his forehead and away from his closed eyelids.

So what if he's gorgeous? Sure, I admit it, I'm not blind, but it doesn't mean that I have any deep feelings for the boy. I'm not-

I stiffen. The skin on the back of my neck is crawling with the distinct and creepy feeling of someone watching me. I feel the blood drain from my face as I slowly retract my hand from Draco's face. I then very carefully slide myself out from under Draco's warm limbs and away from him.

I turn around and meet a pair of inquisitive brown eyes with my own.

"Amari." I swallow, trying to sound nonchalant. "Good morning. I- I didn't know you were…erm, awake."

He watches me for a moment. "Good morning, Bakari."

I smile at him and stand up, trying to ignore that piercing look he's currently using to apparently see right into my head. I walk over to the hand basin to wash my hands and rinse out my mouth.

"Did you sleep well, my young friend?"

"Yes, thank you," I reply, not turning around.

"I am glad."

Why am I acting so guilty? I didn't do anything wrong. I don't have any control over what Malfoy does with his own arms and legs. It was just the result of moving about during a restless night of sleeping, that's all.

I smile at Amari as I dry my hands. "What about you? How did you sleep?"

"Good." He finally smiles, but his eyes still hold a trace of that interrogative gleam.

I nod, forcing another falsely bright smile on my face.

An awkward silence ensues, causing me to feel very uncomfortable as I fidget with the buttons on my shirt. I desperately try to think of something to say.

Luckily I don't have to.

"Good morning, Draco." Amari's gaze shifts away from me and towards the slowly stretching figure of Draco on the mat.

Oh, thank god.

Draco grumbles unintelligently. He is not a morning person.

I smile at the Slytherin and shake my head.

Amari watches me watching Draco.

After the morning inmate count, the three of us travel down to the dining hall and meet up with the rest of our friends for breakfast.

The entire time, I find that I can't stop thinking about this morning; waking up in Draco's arms, and feeling…what exactly?

I frown and ponder these strange new thoughts as I absently dig into the disgusting breakfast, hardly noticing the cardboard taste this time.

It's not the fact that I willingly admit to the blond's attractiveness, any person - male or female - can tell the boy is stunning, that's not what's bothering me. What's bothering me is the fact that I didn't recoil in horror upon waking up in his arms. In fact, it was the complete opposite of horror - I actually _liked_ it. But is that feeling stemming from loneliness and from being locked in a prison with Malfoy as my only source of the familiar, or is it…?

No. I am not going down that road. If there's anything there, then it's purely sexual, and I am not interested. It would be a bad idea for more reasons than I care to count. Number one being that Draco is straight...I think.

"Harry?"

I blink and look up at Jack's face. "Huh?"

"Something wrong?" he asks.

"No, why?"

Jack glances around at everyone else's face before coming back to me. "You just ate your breakfast in record time. Is the stuff finally tasting that good to you?"

I look down and notice that my plate is indeed empty, spotless, in fact.

"I guess I was hungry." I shrug.

Draco cocks a brow in surprise.

I quickly look away from him and grab for my glass of water.

"Bakari?"

"Yeah?" I look over at Amari, and for a split second I'm terrified that he's going to mention what he saw this morning – not that anything really happened, mind you.

"We are on laundry duty today."

"What? What's that?" I ask, relieved.

Jack answers for him. "Each cell is assigned a different job to perform in the prison each week. Not really sure why you haven't had to do it up till now, but this week you're on laundry duty in the basement. Meaning, you have to wash and dry clothing, sheets, things like that."

"What?" Draco gapes. "How can they do that? This isn't even a real prison, all the people in here are still presumed innocent, right? They can't force innocent people into doing manual labour!"

"They can do whatever they want in here, princess," Jack replies. "No one is the wiser. The fucking Ministry have no clue about half of the things that go on in here. The Vark are in control and we have no say. Just be glad you're not on urinal cleaning duty."

Draco practically turns green at the thought.

"Come along, boys," Amari says with a smile. "It is time to work."

Draco and I share a look of despair before following along behind.

I am not staring at Malfoy's ass as we follow Amari down to the basement level. Really. I'm not.

Okay, I am. But it doesn't mean anything. I am merely a seventeen year old virgin who is obviously feeling desperate enough for anything. Plus, I think that inner voice of mine that's supposed to tell you when you've crossed into the bad territory has decided to take a little vacation.

Merlin, I really need to set some guide lines for myself. Top of the list: do not lust after straight men…er, or men who are currently having sexual identity crisis.'

Maybe I should just change that to 'do not lust after Draco Malfoy.'

Okay, good. I'll just live by that one tiny, insignificant rule. No problem. I can do that.

_Yeah, sure you can._

Oh hey, my inner voice is back.

"Sarcastic git," I mutter.

"What did you just call me?" Draco says, turning around.

"Wha- oh, um…I was talking to myself," I answer in embarrassment.

Draco gives me a strange look. "Thanks, Potter. Looks like I don't have to insult you anymore since you seem to be doing a good enough job of it on your own."

"Ha ha," I shoot back sarcastically.

He smirks back at me as we finally enter the large laundry facilities.

Amari turns to us and has to yell to be heard over the noise. "I will bring the dirty laundry to you two, and your job is to wash, then hand it over to the people who dry. Three cell groups work down here at one time, and the strongest carry the laundry because it is very heavy. You two are small, so you wash. Understand?"

I place my hand over Draco's mouth to stop him from making some kind of indignant reply.

"Okay," I shout back.

Amari gives us the thumbs up and leads us over to the large washing tubs. He points out the soap and wash boards, then leaves to fetch the first load.

I snort as I look at our 'equipment.' Not only do we have to work without magic, but they've also provided us with a practically prehistoric method of getting it done with.

Amari lumbers over with the first batch and dumps it at our feet.

With a sigh, I pick up one of the sheets and dunk it into the warm water.

I glance over at Draco and see him watching my movements. I smile. "You've never done this before, have you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Obviously not," he replies disdainfully.

"It's easy. Just take the soap in one hand, the board in another, put some of the soap on the board, and then scrub up and down. See?" I demonstrate for him.

Draco nods and delicately picks up a soiled grey shirt from the pile with the tips of his fingers. He grimaces as he then picks up the soap and washboard.

I almost laugh at the gentle scrubbing the blond is doing with the shirt. It is going to take him hours just to clean one thing.

"You're going to have to press harder," I instruct over the din. "See?" I put my back into it and scrub up and down on my board, demonstrating.

Draco nods and returns to work.

I smile and continue on.

Pretty soon, Draco has the hang of it and we're both working at a good steady pace, Amari dropping by every ten minutes or so to give us more.

"Ugh…my back is killing me," I groan after a couple of hours, dumping the now clean trousers onto the pile for drying. I reach a hand back and try to rub some of the kinks out of my aching lower back.

"_You're_ sore?" Draco says. "You're used to this manual labour stuff, I'm the one who's really suffering."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, get over yourself, princess."

Draco sends me his patented death glare. "Don't call me that."

"Jack did. Didn't hear you complaining then."

"I was a little distracted by the thought of cleaning out urinals."

I smile and dunk another white undershirt into the warm, sudsy water. "Who knows? Maybe we'll be out of here before we reach toilet cleaning duty."

"Keep wishing, Potter." Draco pauses to swipe sweaty tendrils of hair back from his forehead.

"I think I've done more than you," I say, glancing at him as he takes yet another break from washing.

"Good for you. Keep it up."

"Shut-up."

Draco smirks and reluctantly grabs another article of clothing from the dirty heap.

"So, let's say we do get out of here some day, what does the great Harry Potter have planned for his no doubt extraordinary future?"

"You mean after I murder the most powerful evil genius our world has to offer?"

"Of course."

"Well, then my ideal future consists of a rocking chair and a porch."

Draco pauses to give me a withering look. "Be serious, Harry. You can do that when you're eighty."

"I would love to do that now," I answer truthfully. "I can't even imagine what it would be like living from day to day with absolutely nothing to worry about but watering the plants and feeding the cat."

"Cat?"

"Or maybe a Hippogriff." I smile, thinking of Buckbeak.

Draco shudders. "I hate those ugly beasts."

"Maybe you should have kept your big mouth shut back then."

Draco pauses in his work to glare at me. "But seriously, Potter. You would never last living the normal life, you crave danger and excitement too much. Why don't you play professional Quidditch?"

"Are you saying that you think I'm good enough?" I smile charmingly at him.

"Don't fish for compliments, Potter, it doesn't suit you."

"And don't start handing them out, because that doesn't suit you either." I chuckle, flipping over the trousers to scrub the other side. "And by the way, I do not crave danger and excitement. I am bloody tired of them both and wish to live out the rest of my life - however long that may be - as peacefully and as quietly as possible."

"How dreadfully boring."

"What about you, then? Where do you see yourself in the future?"

"Living the high life." Draco smirks. "Nothing but champagne, parties, caviar, and sleeping until two."

"So you want to be lazy and spend a lot of money. Big surprise."

"Throwing a party is not an easy thing to do - it's exhausting."

"Well, when you get tired of you're parties and caviar, you're welcome to visit me on my porch."

"With your cat?" Draco smirks.

"With my Hippogriff," I correct with a wink.

"Then I shall _not_ be visiting your boring old porch and creaky chair."

I laugh and throw another shirt onto the drying table.

A loud whistle screeches above our heads, alerting us to the end of our working time.

Amari walks over and wipes a hand over his glistening brow. "Ready to go boys?"

"Definitely," I reply, sharing a look of relief with Draco.

I try to stretch out my stiff arms while we head back up to the main floor and away from the heat and stench of the basement.

"I am going to use the shower," Amari announces, looking over his shoulder at us. "I don't know about you, but I am in need of a cleaning."

I laugh and nod. "Me, too."

I can just imagine the smell coming off of us right now.

"At least they give us hot water here," Draco says, grateful for small blessings.

I smile, but the look becomes frozen as I think about what Draco just said. Large communal shower room. Draco. Naked. Me. Naked.

Shit shit shit shit….

Okay, don't panic. Think back to number one on your new guide lines list: don't lust after Draco Malfoy. He's an evil git. A wanker. A…a stuck up snob, and anal retentive…

Hmm…maybe I should stay away from thoughts centering around the subject of anything anal –

STOP!

"Something wrong, Harry?" Draco asks as I slap a hand over my mouth.

"No…nothing." I slowly lower my hand and force a smile.

Draco raises a brow. "You're losing it."

"Yeah, I think I am."

Draco looks as though he's trying to figure out whether I'm joking or not. "Well, at least we're in agreement."

"Yeah," I add inanely.

I gulp as the three of us enter the changing room. I turn away from my companions, and face the lockers as I strip down.

All I have to do is not look at him. That's not so hard.

Gods, I wish I still had my glasses, that way I could simply remove them and lose the ability to see _anything_ clearly.

I keep my eyes firmly on the floor as I walk into the shower room. I grab the closest spout and face the wall.

So far so good.

I grab the bar of soap, lather up, and wash my body and my hair. I rinse away any remaining residue and, eyes glued to the dingy tiled floor, turn to reach for my towel.

Shit…where the fuck is my bleeding towel?

I look up and promptly close my eyes again.

I wish it had been Draco naked.

"What do you want?" I ask, glowering at Bailey; one third of the Carnal Boy trio.

"Just thought you might like a fresh towel, that's all, gorgeous," he leers, eyeing me up and down.

"Can I have it now?" I hold out an empty hand towards him.

"Not so fast there, Mr Potter," he says, pulling the towel just out of reach. "For a service such as this, the polite thing to do would be to tip me."

"I didn't ask for you to bring me a towel. I _had_ one already."

Bailey's eyes darken and his hand clenches around the grey coloured towel.

"Actually, it's okay," I say hesitantly, backing up a step. "I don't need a towel. I'm fine-"

Bailey lifts a muscular arm and places his hand against the wall, barring my way.

"Is there a problem here?"

I look up and sigh in relief as Amari steps into view.

Bailey eyes him disdainfully. Luckily, Bailey stands a good five inches shorter than Amari, and is obviously no match for him, despite their age difference.

"There ain't no trouble here, just givin' the boy his towel." Bailey throws the towel onto the wet floor and turns on his heel to leave.

"Are you okay, Bakari?" Amari asks me in concern.

"Yeah," I reply shakily. "He just surprised is all. I wish they'd leave me alone."

Amari smiles gently at me. "Don't worry, if they've picked you out to hunt, then we won't leave you alone."

I smile my thanks and reach down to pick up the soggy towel.

"Harry, here!"

I look up as Draco comes striding over, a clean towel held in his hand.

"Thanks." I say as I catch it from him and quickly wrap it around my waist.

"You okay, Potter?" he asks with a frown.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Come along, boys." Amari turns and we both follow him back to the changing rooms.

Thankfully, Bailey isn't anywhere in sight when we enter.

All the lockers are equipped with tiny mirrors in the doors, and as I finish buttoning up my shirt and glance into it to check my hair, I can see the reflection of Draco behind me.

I don't even try to argue with myself about my staring. I just watch him as he combs his fingers through his wet, blond hair. I notice the water stain in the small of his back on the clean shirt he's just put on, as though he didn't dry himself too thoroughly. I see the concentration in his grey eyes as he arranges his hair just so.

I bet if Draco lived in the muggle world, he'd be a model.

It's weird, if I had seen Draco in the muggle world, acting the way he does, I would have immediately labeled him as a gay man. Somehow, the wizarding world is confusing my judgment. Maybe it's just the way he was brought up; to care about his appearance and so on, and it doesn't mean anything. But then…look at his father…

I slam the locker closed and berate myself for being so stupid and openly staring at Draco like that. I don't know what I'm doing. I need to think about all of this…but I don't really want to.

"Coming Bakari?"

I nod dully and trail after Draco and Amari as they head back out into the prison and then out to the yard to join Jack and the gang for the last half hour of fresh air time.

"Care for a game of Stones?" Jack immediately smirks at Draco.

"You're on, old man." Draco smirks back.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," I announce as they settle down on one of the benches and spill the rocks out for the game on its surface.

"Sure you don't want to play?" Draco asks, not looking up.

"Yeah, I'll be back in a bit."

"Do you want some company?" Amari asks, staring into my eyes intently.

I almost accept. It would be so nice to just confess everything and get his opinion on the matter, maybe hearing it aloud would help me see things more clearly. But most wizards do not accept homosexuality, and I don't want to alienate my friend. And perhaps I don't want to know if he hates gay men, I don't want to see that side to such a caring and thoughtful human being.

"No, thanks," I decline with a smile.

Amari nods and sits down beside the others to watch and place bets as Draco and Jack begin their game.

I wander off, drifting far away towards the other end of the yard, my arms wrapped firmly around my waist.

I stop at the perimeter of the fence and look out, past the steel and barbed wire, through the magical force field, and out at the barren landscape beyond. I can hear the hum of the magic as I step closer.

All I can see is rock and sky. The earth is just dark, craggy rocks upon which the dark grey sky rests. It looks as though a storm may be coming.

I turn and look back at my friends; mere specks on the other side of the grounds. I sigh and wish that I could lean back against the fence behind me, but I'm pretty sure the magic would zap me or something. I settle for sitting cross-legged on the dirt instead.

I pick up a small pebble and play with it as thoughts swirl in my head.

I know that I don't care for Draco beyond the tenuous friendship that we've slowly built. I do care for him, I think, but not like that.

I rest my head in my hands and lean my elbows on my knees.

Then why am I having these strange thoughts? Why do I find myself watching him? I thought about him naked today, for fuck's sake! That's not normal. You don't think about a friend that way. I sure as hell have never thought about Ron that way.

Then why? Why all these inopportune thoughts and feelings? Is it because we're spending so much time together? Is it because he's opening up to me and not acting like such a prat?

I didn't think of him like this until I woke up in his arms this morning. So…it must mean that I'm just lonely and…and maybe a little bit scared. Not that I would ever admit that to him.

I've never woken up being held like that in my life. That's what brought all this on.

Okay, it's simple – I will refrain from sleeping so close to him and then that will stop this mess from getting worse.

I appreciate and value his friendship way too much to muck it all up. It would only offend and anger him if he were to know. He would be disgusted with me and I would be disgusted with myself. No, it's definitely for the best, especially with that whole thing with his father and all.

It'll just have to be one more secret that I have to keep in my life…

I wish I had someone to tell everything to, like a father, or a lover, but seeing as I am lacking both, I will just have to suffer it out alone and keep my mouth shut.

I toss the pebble away and slowly make my way back over to the group. It's nearly time for us to go back in for dinner.

"So who won?" I ask cheerfully.

Jack smiles and Draco glares.

"Never mind." I laugh. "What are you doing now?"

"Amari is trying to decide on a name for Draco," Trip says, grinning at me.

"Really?" I ask, interested.

"Abimbola…" Amari tries it out thoughtfully, looking at Draco. 

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means: born wealthy."

We all laugh and Draco's pout twitches slightly.

"What about Hasani? It means, handsome."

"Yeah, I like that," Draco says, forgoing his pouting.

"Yeah, that's what he needs, a bigger head." Jack snorts.

"I know," Amari says wisely. "Uzoma."

"What does that mean?" Draco asks, apparently liking the sound of that one.

"It means: follow the right road."

I smile. That's perfect for him, for the Slytherin who has denied his house and family and is now walking the right path – or the 'right road,' so to speak.

"I like it." Draco nods thoughtfully.

"Good. Now let's go eat!"

I smile as Jack throws an arm around my shoulders and we all head back towards Grace. Me and my small group of friends.

I glance back at Draco and we share a smile.

Nope, there's no way I'm going to risk changing a thing about any of this.


	14. Amari's Tale

It has been one week. One week to the day since I made a multitude of promises to myself that I have not been able to keep.

I lie here in the quiet of the morning, as I have done all week, and watch my ex-nemesis sleep. The early light of dawn is creeping in between the metal bars, slowly illuminating Draco's face as he sleeps. Not many people know that he has a tiny, pale freckle at the left-hand side of his mouth, almost touching the corner of his lips.

I know this about him now.

He also has the most crystal clear, fair skin that I have ever seen; it is milky and perfect; glowing, even. If he didn't have such a strong jaw, he would look almost effeminate with that complexion. But his face is a perfect balance of beauty and masculinity.

I know all these things about him because I've made it a habit to study him. I've been doing it since Hogwarts, only now it's for an entirely different reason.

I know it's stupid and pointless, but I can't help it; I've developed feelings for him. I can't explain how or why, they're just there. I know by the way I can't not grin back at him when he graces me with one of his rare smiles. The way I catch myself watching him when he's doing completely mundane things; like washing his hands, or eating dinner, or playing Stones with the others. I always laugh at his jokes, whether I find them funny or not. I sit beside him at meal times in the hopes that he may talk to me, I confide in him my fears about our case, and he in turn confides in me; not the big things, mind you, but the little things that may not seem like much to outsiders, or to people who don't know him, but it's a big deal to me because I know better.

I don't want to ruin our new-found friendship, but I don't know how much longer I can keep up this charade. I've successfully avoided taking the same shower time as him for the past seven days. I just hope he doesn't suspect anything, he wouldn't take it very well. Draco is anything if not perceptive.

But it's not helping any that Draco has been using me as his own personal teddy bear these past few nights, not that he knows this, and _I_ certainly would never tell him. It's for his own good, really.

I can hear one of my cell mates shifting restlessly on their bed, and I know it's time for me to get up and quit my new favourite hobby of Draco watching.

I slowly wriggle my way out from under his sleep-heavy limbs and tiredly rub my hands over my face as I make my way to the hand basin to rinse out that foul morning taste.

"Morning, Amari," I automatically greet, not even needing to look in his direction to know that he's watching me.

"Good morning, Bakari," he answers, and I can hear the smile in his deep voice.

I turn and frown at his amused expression. "What's with you?"

"I am just pleased that it is going to be so fine a day."

I slowly turn and look out the window at the pouring rain.

"Ah, good morning, Umoza!" Amari belts out heartily behind me.

Draco mumbles and throws his arms over his face in a futile attempt at blocking out the world - as well as Amari's cheerful voice.

I smile at the blond's early morning dramatics.

This little infatuation is getting ridiculous; I actually find Draco's behaviour _cute_.

Somewhere Ron's head is exploding.

The laundry room is as steamy and noisy as usual when Draco and I arrive later to perform our cleaning duties. We take up our usual stations at the tubs of soapy water, chatting amiably as we get into our work with a familiar ease.

Thankfully it's our last day here, and after a few hours of mind-numbingly boring labour, it is now almost quitting time.

"Get real, Potter," Draco is exclaiming with a roll of his eyes. "Granger is _not_ a rule breaker."

"You just don't know her like I do," I reply. "Who do you think stole the ingredients in the first place?"

"From Snape's private lab?" He says sceptically. 

"Yep." I nod, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain that looks suspiciously like blood.

"So…that was you and Weasley that I was talking to? _Not_ Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Yep. Pretty cool, huh?" I smirk proudly.

Draco shakes his head with a smile. "I can't believe I was duped by two Gryffindors - and _Weasley! _I'll never live this down…"

I laugh and wring out the wet shirt. "Oh, I'm sure you'll survive somehow."

Draco picks up a large, white sheet and dumps it into the tub. "What else haven't you told me that I should know about?" he asks suspiciously.

"Hmm…" I think for a moment. "Do you remember that time when you were by the Shrieking Shack, and you thought a ghost was pelting you with snowballs?"

Draco's eyes widen. "That was _you_?"

"Huh…I thought Snape would've told you about that one. You have to admit that you deserved it though, Draco. You were being a first class prat to my friends."

"Yeah, alright." Draco shrugs in acknowledgment. "That was very Slytherin of you."

"You know, I would be having serious doubts about my house if people said deceit and brute force were common characteristics in its members."

"It's fine, as long as you sleep with one eye open and your wand up your sleeve."

"You wear pyjamas?"

"Yeah…?" Draco says slowly, frowning.

"I just thought, I mean…" I blush furiously and turn away. "Never mind."

Luckily, Amari arrives at that moment and saves me from further humiliation. Is it so wrong that I always thought of Draco as a silk boxers kind of guy? Er…or maybe it's wrong that I think about what he wears in bed.

"Are you alright, Bakari?" Amari asks as he dumps an armful of soiled laundry at our feet. "You look a little flushed."

"Um, I'm fine. Just a little hot – er…tired."

I quickly grab a sheet from the pile and dunk it into the water, keeping my eyes from either of their faces.

Amari leaves after sharing a confused shrug with Draco.

"Anything else I should know about, Harry?"

I'm not sure if Draco's talking about what I got up to in school - or something else…

"Not really, you pretty much know everything else," I reply easily. "Like Hagrid's dragon and stuff."

"You got me in detention for that one," Draco grumbles, returning to his washing.

"You deserved it for being such a git. Plus, we both got punished for that one, remember?"

Draco walks past me to toss a clean pair of trousers onto the table. "Wasn't that the night you first met up with Voldemort?"

"Yeah…" I shudder as I remember that horrible figure drinking the unicorn's blood. "God…I can't believe I was only eleven."

"You were never _really_ eleven, Harry."

I snort softly in agreement as I wring out the clean sheet and throw it to the table top.

"Hey, we're almost done," Draco observes happily.

I glance down and see that the pile has dwindled to a pair of grey boxers and one last white sheet.

The boxers are worn and stained.

I wrinkle my nose and glance up at Draco. He holds my eye for a second, his eyebrows raised, then makes his move.

I anticipate this and lunge for the sheet.

"Let go, Potter!" he cries, tugging on one end of the sheet. "There's no way I'm touching someone's dirty underwear."

"Me neither!" I say stubbornly, pulling back with all my might.

We're still playing tug-of-war when the whistle blows for dinner.

We stop pulling and stare at eachother, panting. I'm not going to back down, and neither apparently is he.

We both start to smile.

The door slams shut behind the other workers who have been hanging the wet laundry to dry, and I turn to smirk at Draco – challenging.

Draco smirks in return and leans over to splash some water up into my face.

"Hey!" I cry in surprise. I duck my head, but some of the soapy water goes up my nose. I sniff and then start to sneeze.

Draco laughs and, seeing my distraction, gives one quick, sharp pull of the sheet.

But, unbeknownst to him, I haven't exactly relaxed my grip. I am suddenly jerked forward very fast and stumble into Draco, sending us both to the floor; with me landing hard on top of the surprised blond.

"Oomph!" Draco grunts as my full weight lands on top of him.

We both open our eyes at the same time.

I swallow as I look into his grey eyes. I've never seen his eyes this close before while they've been open. And I can see that little freckle by his mouth. I swallow again, but I can't quite seem to move.

Draco is breathing heavily as he stares up at me, waiting for me to do something.

So I do - without stopping to think, or to consider the consequences and possibly horrible repercussions –

I lean down and kiss him.

My eyes fall shut of their own accord as my lips finally taste what they've been longing for for the past seven days and nights. I almost moan aloud as my lips touch the sweet softness of Draco's mouth. I can feel my lips trembling, and then gain confidence as an answering pressure is tentatively pushed back against them.

The sound of the door screeching open causes the both of us to jump.

I open my eyes.

Draco's grey eyes are a storm of anger and accusation below me.

"Get off of me!" He suddenly screams, shoving me in the chest.

I fall off of him, clutching my ribs, and staring at the wild-eyed boy. Draco leaps to his feet, panting heavily and glaring down at me.

"Don't you ever fucking come near me again, Potter," he says in a dangerously low voice.

"Draco-"

"Shut-up! Just shut-up!" Draco spins around and runs from the room, slamming the heavy door hard behind him.

I close my eyes against the situation, hoping against hope that I will soon wake from this nightmare.

"Harry?"

I reluctantly open my eyes and look up into Amari's concerned face.

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand for me. "I think it is time we talk."

I grasp his hand and allow him pull me to my feet.

"I don't…" I don't know how to say that I can't go near Draco at the moment.

But I think he already knows. "It is alright, we will go home. The rest of them will be eating in the hall right now."

I nod mutely and follow Amari back to our cell without another word.

I have really made a mess of things. This isn't some nightmare that I can wake up from and everything will be okay again.

Why oh why did I have to kiss him? What the bloody hell was I thinking? When will I ever learn to think before diving in and making matters worse. I am disgusted with myself, and with my apparent lack of any sort of self-control. I knew he'd been traumatized by his father and was having a difficult time accepting that his dad had been living a lie his entire life, and then I have to go and kiss him! Of course he hates me now.

I shake my head in regret as I enter the cell and slump down on the lowest bunk bed.

"You don't have to tell me, Bakari," Amari is saying, watching me. "I know you care for him. Tell me, when did this feeling start? Was it before you came here?"

I put my hands in my lap and twist them uncomfortably, keeping my eyes downcast. "No - after." I peer up at him from under my dark fringe. "Doesn't it bother you that I'm gay?" I ask quietly.

Amari smiles and leans against the wall by the window. "No. I have no prejudices against love. I have seen many a…what is the other word for straight?"

"Heterosexual?"

"Yes. I have seen many a heterosexual relationship fall into ruin due to abusive partners and cheating and lying. A man and a woman do not automatically make a good relationship, the only thing that matters is that they must love eachother, and care for eachother – beyond that there is nothing else."

I smile weakly and nod, my eyes returning to the floor. "I believe that, too." I sigh. "I don't love him, you know."

"But could you?"

"I don't know…maybe." I suddenly stand and kick the bed in anger. "What does it matter, though? He hates me now – and he's not even gay!"

"He does not hate you, Bakari. And are you so sure about where his preferences lie?"

"He told me."

"Words are not important." Amari waves his hand impatiently. "Did he kiss you back?"

"You saw?" I ask with a sinking heart.

He nods.

"I don't know…I think he did, but what if I was just imagining it? Maybe that's what I wanted to feel. You should've seen his face…he was so angry, and hurt."

"Maybe he was scared."

"No…" I shake my head and sit back down on the bed.

"His eyes were closed."

"What?" I glance up with a frown.

"When you kissed him, his eyes were closed. You do not close your eyes when someone you hate forces themselves on you."

I quickly squash the spark of hope that Amari's words ignited. "It still doesn't matter. I shouldn't have done what I did. If he wanted to be with me, then I should have let him make the first move. I should have controlled myself."

"Why can't you make the first move?"

I sigh. "It's…complicated. Draco's past is very complicated."

"Along with the man himself," Amari says wisely.

"Yeah." I nod sadly. "But I can't explain, he wouldn't want me to."

"I understand."

"Can I ask you something?" I ask after a minute of silence.

"Of course."

"Do you think my feelings have something to do with being locked up in here? I never thought of him that way once when we were in school together. I just…I guess I don't want to find out that my feelings aren't really real…"

"Of course they're real," Amari says with conviction. "You're feelings might have come from being put into a different situation with him, but they are true none-the-less. Perhaps you did not give him a chance in the past."

"He didn't deserve a chance." I snort bitterly.

"Ah…so now you are seeing him act in a different way. More dimensions are being added to one you once thought to be so transparent."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Yes…yes, that's it exactly. He's acting so different now, so changed. It's like he's finally allowing his true self to come out, like he isn't hiding from anything, or anyone."

I pause, my shoulders drooping.

"But…what if _this_ is the act? Maybe the other Draco _was_ the real one. Maybe he's just using me because he thinks he'll have a better chance of getting out if he pretends to be my friend." I drop my head into my heads in frustration. "I'm just so confused."

Amari comes over and sits beside me, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders. "It is going to be okay, Bakari. Your heart will tell you which is the real man. Has he done anything that goes beyond the call of a mere fake friendship duty?"

I shrug, then lift my hands away from my face. "He did help me with those Carnal Boys…he didn't have to get locked up in the Box with me."

Amari smiles to himself. "Sometimes seeing the person you care for in danger can awaken new feelings. Fear out of love can push us to the most heroic of actions, far beyond what we ever thought ourselves capable of."

I look up at Amari with what can only be described as awe. "You are the wisest person I know. Besides Dumbledore, that is."

Amari chuckles and gives my shoulders a squeeze. "My name does not mean 'wise,' young one."

"What does it mean?" I ask curiously.

"Strength." He smiles. "But it can have many interpretations, depending on where you are from."

"You're from Africa, right?"

"Yes," he says proudly. "Born and raised. I moved my family here when my wife became pregnant."

"I didn't know you were married," I say, wondering why I never thought to ask before. "How come you moved here?"

"My home land is not always the safest of places for children to grow, or for my wife."

"Why's that?"

"Some parts of my land do not accept a white woman into the family as readily as a member of our own race."

"Oh…I'm sorry about that. That must've been awful."

So he does understand what I'm going through in a way.

"So you have children, then?" I ask.

Amari's smile is the brightest I have seen it. "Yes, I have four children."

I can't help but smile in return, forgetting my problems at least for the time being.

"How old are they? What are their names?"

"The oldest, Kali, she is now eighteen. Then there is NyAshia, and she is fifteen, and she has a twin sister named Sikudhani. And then there is Ekundayo and he is the youngest at eleven."

"How long have you been in here?" I ask quietly.

"Eleven years. My wife, Julia, was pregnant when I was arrested."

I almost want to cry at the unfairness of it all. How could anyone arrest this peace loving man who has a wife and children at home?

I swallow and try to lighten the mood. "Do your children's names have meanings as well?"

He smiles a little, but not quite as bright. "Yes. Kali means 'energetic.' NyAshia means 'African princess.' Sikudhani means 'a pleasant surprise,' because we were not expecting twins." He chuckles lightly. "And Ekundayo means 'sorrow becomes joy.' My wife chose that name alone."

"So…does your family come here to visit?" I ask.

"My wife does, and she bring pictures of the children, but I do not want them to see me in here. I think the fear in their eyes would be damaging to the soul."

I nod and feel as though I should have my arm around Amari's shoulders now. The two of us sitting here, wallowing in our own misery. Although, I must admit that Amari's pain is far greater than my own teenage angst issues.

"You never told me why you were arrested," I broach hesitantly.

Amari glances out the window, his eyes taking on a far-away look. "I was arrested for suspected Death Eater behaviour."

"What?" I whisper, my jaw dropping.

Amari continues as though I hadn't spoken. "I was living with my family in a small Muggle village at the time, and awoke to the sounds of screaming. I told my wife to use the Floo to take the kids to a safe place while I went to check it out. She begged me to come with her…but I refused."

He swallows and I understand the regret he must be feeling. It's the same feeling that haunts me every time I remember suggesting that Cedric take the Tri-Wizard cup with me.

"I crept outside and saw that the empty field at the far edge of the village was filled with people and flashing lights and smoke - and screams of terror. There was a large group of Death Eaters there; tormenting these poor defenceless Muggles. Even Muggle children. I hid behind this tree and watched, not knowing what to do. That's when I met Trip."

"Trip? Trip from here?" I ask.

"Yes, he also lived in that village and had come to help. We decided to stun the nearest Death Eaters and steal their robes."

"So you disguised yourselves as one of them."

"Yes. We put on the masks and the black robes, and then slowly joined the swirling mass as they circled the muggles and fired spells and curses at them. We began to stun a few Death Eaters on the outskirts, and put out the fires that were engulfing some of the muggles. I'll never forget the smell…"

"And that's when it happened," he continues. "Suddenly, they all disapparated at the same time. I think Voldemort sent them some kind of secret signal to leave through their Dark Marks, because just then about fifty Aurors swarmed the field and pointed their wands at us. We tried to explain what had happened, but the Death Eaters we had already stunned were gone. I suppose the others must have taken them, or else Voldemort has some sort of fail-safe for that kind of situation. All I know is that they arrested us and we've been here ever since."

"Why are you here in Grace, then?" I ask.

"Because since neither one of us has the Dark Mark, our stories could be true. Some argue that we are spies working for the Dark, while others argue that we had simply joined in that one night for the fun of it. They're also accusing us of having our memories obliviated so that we can not tell them of our connection with Voldemort. "

I shake my head. "So…how are they going to prove anything otherwise _now_?"

"They're not," Amari says simply, coming out of it and glancing down at me.

"But…that means…"

"That I am stuck here?" he asks.

I can only nod.

"Ah, I still have hope, Bakari," he says, and I can see it in his eyes that he does not lie.

"Good," I say strongly.

"And so should you."

I smile and look away. "I'll try. Maybe if I apologize… Even if he doesn't want anything more than friendship, I'll be okay with that."

"Will you now?" Amari raises a brow.

"I'll learn to be okay with it." I laugh.

"Good. Now, enough talking. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

Amari rises and lifts up the floor mat to take out some of the hidden food within. As he does, I see the rest of our cell mates returning from dinner – including Draco.

I swallow down my nerves and cautiously stand.

Draco ignores me completely and nods in greeting to Amari. He then goes to the hand basin to wash his hands and face.

I glance at Amari, unsure. He gives me an encouraging nod and retreats to the top bunk to give us as much privacy as possible.

Draco turns and walks back to our mat to sit down.

"Draco?" I take a step towards him.

"I told you, Potter," he warns, turning ice cold eyes on me. "Stay the fuck away from me, and that includes not speaking to me."

"I just-"

Draco lies down and turns his back on me.

I decide to give him some time to cool down, and then try talking to him again tomorrow.

I start to walk over to our mat to sleep.

Draco stiffens. "Don't even think about it, Potter!"

I won't say that it doesn't hurt….because it does. Especially when we've been getting along so well up until now.

I retreat back to the corner and sit on the stone floor. I deserve to sleep here for tonight after what I did to him. I just hope that I haven't damaged our friendship permanently.

This morning I would've given anything to have Draco like me in the way I like him, and now, I would give anything just have his friendship back.


	15. Nothing Lasts Forever

The rain is still cascading down past the barred window as I sit perched on the rim of the hand basin and stare out into the misty yard below. I gave up on sleep a few hours ago, and sit here waiting for the morning to come.

I glance behind me at Draco, still fast asleep on the floor mat. His brow is creased with a slight frown, and I have a sinking feeling that it has something to do with me and what I did to him yesterday.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, but at least now I've come to terms with the fact that it happened, and that if I hadn't done it, I would've done it some other time in the future. All I have to do now is apologize and tell him that it didn't mean anything, and that I just want to be friends again, or at least on speaking terms.

Surely he can forgive one tiny little slip of control on my part.

If only I could get the feeling of him kissing me back out of my mind… And Amari's voice telling me that Draco had his eyes closed…

I see Draco shift in his sleep, forehead still furrowed. I glance at the other sleeping inhabitants of our cell and see that they're all still fast asleep. I need to apologize to Draco without anyone else around, or at least not listening in.

I hop down and cautiously approach Draco. I crouch down near his head. "Draco?"

He mumbles in his sleep, frown deepening.

"Draco, I need to talk to you."

The blond slowly blinks his eyes open and the grey orbs travel upwards to find my face peering down at him. I can see the previous day's events rushing back through his brain on fast forward as his expression turns suddenly stony.

"What did I tell you yesterday, Potter?" he hisses. "I meant it. Don't. Talk. To. Me. Again."

"Wait!" I whisper as loudly as I dare as Draco makes to turn away from me. "I just want to apologize. I didn't mean for that to happen, I just…I don't know why I did it - I mean, I know why, I just don't know…" I stop and sigh. "Look, it won't happen again. I swear. I don't want us to go back to being enemies. Please?"

Draco's stony expression doesn't change one degree. "I don't want to be your _friend_, Potter," he spits. "You've shown that you can't control your sick perverted feelings, so this is all your fault. I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore."

I take a deep breath and will my temper away. "Look, I know you have some past…_issues_ with people like me, but I've apologized and I've told you that it won't happen again. What more do you want?"

"You can't just apologize and expect me to forgive you before we dance merrily off into the sunset as best friends." Draco sits up now, glaring. "I decided to give you a chance, even though I knew that you were a queer, and look how it turned out. I was right after all. You're just trying to…to spread your disease around and I don't want any part of that."

I clench my hands into fists and I can feel my eyes flare with anger. "You prejudiced piece of shit!" I whisper vehemently. "You're scared, Malfoy, and I can see it in your eyes. You're scared that you enjoyed me kissing you just a little too much."

"How dare you!"

"Admit it!" I lean in closer. "You're just as scared as I am in here and you're trying to deny something that you know to be true. You don't want anyone to find out that you, Draco Malfoy, are gay!"

I reel back as Draco's hand comes up to slap me across the cheek. I put a hand to my face in surprise, and turn back to look at him. Draco looks shaken down to his core.

"Like father, like son," I say darkly.

Draco's eyes burn with rage.

"And," I quickly cut him off, "I'm not talking about your sexuality, because that's not an insult."

I take my hand away from my still stinging cheek, knowing that there is a red mark there for the Slytherin to see.

The whistle blows for the morning inmate count and I ignore the blatant staring of our cellmates, not caring that they've probably been listening in for most of our argument.

Draco's wide eyes suddenly narrow and he quickly jumps to his feet. "I'm warning you, Potter. Stay the fuck away from me, and I mean it this time."

I shake my head with a sigh as Draco pushes past me and heads outside.

Amari comes up behind me and puts a comforting arm around my shoulders. "Give him time, Bakari. One day he will grow up and become a man in his own right."

"Meanwhile his puberty stage is going to drive me over the edge."

Amari laughs his deep, hearty laugh, and it causes me to smile.

"It feels good to smile," I say, looking up at him.

"Then do it more often my friend."

"I'm glad you're here," I blurt out suddenly.

"Well, for you I am glad, but for me, I would rather be on the outside."

"Me, too."

I try not to think about the outside world too much, it makes everything a lot easier if I just pretend that my previous life was just a dream and that Grace is the only world there is. The alternative is just too painful. Especially as I'm innocent.

I try to act naturally as I eat my breakfast, laughing and talking with my friends, but a heavy weight has settled over me. It started with my row with Draco this morning and apparently it is going to plague me for awhile. I hope Amari is right, and that Draco will come to accept either the fact that he's gay, or that I am.

I wander the yard outside in the afternoon, extremely relieved that Draco and I are not still on laundry duty this week. The tension would've been unbearable, and I think some time apart will be good for him. And me. I wish Amari was here, though. It seems only Jack and Harshad have ventured out into the rain today.

"Potter!"

I glance up as one of the guards strides purposefully towards me. "Yeah?"

"You have a visitor. Come with me."

I smile for the second time that day and follow along behind as I am led through the corridors of Grace to the visitor's room. I almost sigh in relief as the guard removes my cuffs. I'll have to remember this Vark's face in the future.

"Ron! Hermione!" I grin as I see my two best friend's familiar faces sitting behind the steel table.

They grin back as I sit across from them.

"How are you Harry?" Hermione asks immediately.

"I'm okay, I guess." I shrug. "What about you guys? What's been going on?"

"Not much since the Ministry placed a halt on your case," Ron says. "But don't worry, mate, we're still working for you."

"Yes, along with Dumbledore, Hagrid, Professor Lupin, Neville, Luna…" Hermione lists off with a cheerful smile.

"Wow…" I raise my brows, impressed, and pleased. "How is everyone?"

"Everyone's real good," Hermione answers. "And guess who Neville is dating?"

"Who?" I lean forward with a curious smile.

"Ginny."

"Ginny? Ginny Weasley, Ginny?" I ask in surprise.

"Yeah." Ron rolls his eyes. "I think she's been through every Gryffindor in our year."

"Ron!" Hermione smacks him lightly on the arm.

The smirk Ron flashes her gives me the feeling that there's something more going on between the two of them. I am surprised by the sudden feeling of jealousy that strikes me.

"How's Remus?" I ask, trying to cover up any outward sign of emotion.

"He's fine, Harry," Hermione assures me. "He's a little tired right now because of the full moon that just passed, but he'll be good in a few days. He told me to tell you that he'll be in to visit you as soon as he's able."

"Good." I nod happily.

"Snape's funeral was a few days ago," Ron brings up hesitantly.

"Really?" I say quietly. "And…did you go?"

"Yeah. It was awful though, hardly anybody showed up. Seems the general public liked him about as much as the students did. I felt bad for the guy, even if I did hate him in school."

"He just had a hard life, that's all," I say, almost to myself. "He didn't deserve to die, not like that."

"Sorry, Harry," Ron says. "We didn't mean to bring you down or anything, we just thought you should know."

I nod and look down at the steel table top. I don't know what I'm feeling exactly. The thought of Snape's lonely and hard fought existence being snuffed out so easily is…terrifying. And sad. He never had the chance to outlive Voldemort, to escape from the Dark Mark and to live a normal life. He wasn't even that old…

"Harry?" Hermione is speaking to me, looking concerned.

"Sorry." I give my head a shake and force a smile. "I was just thinking."

"Let's talk about something else," Ron suggests a little too brightly. "How about the leaving ceremony?"

"Oh, yes!" Hermione smiles. "It was lovely, Harry. It was all sunny and warm, and everyone's parents came to watch as Dumbledore handed us our certificates and gave a wonderful speech. I was in tears the whole time."

"And there was so much food!" Ron adds enthusiastically. "And everyone got a tour of the school, and I showed mum and dad the Chamber of Secrets entrance, and the secret entrance to the Shrieking Shack in the Whomping Willow, and the Room of Requirement, and-"

"And scared his mum half to death with stories of our adventures," Hermione adds dryly.

"Near death adventures, more like." Ron winks at me.

I conjure up another forced smile. I don't want to hear about this. I don't want to hear about things that I'll never get to do or experience. The great things that I've missed out on because I've been in prison.

Friends dating, parents proudly watching over their children as they graduate, sunny days at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's last official speech to our class…

Alarmed, I feel the prickle of tears starting up in my eyes. I quickly try to rub them away.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yeah, it's just my eyes are…er, still not used to this new vision spell quite yet."

"Oh, I didn't even notice!" Hermione exclaims. "I'd forgotten that professor Lupin had told us about that. Must feel loads better."

"Yeah," I try to say normally.

"How's Malfoy?" Ron suddenly asks. "Been bothering you, has he?"

"No," I answer shortly. "We don't really speak to each other, except to argue, that is."

"Wanker," Ron says under his breath.

"So I guess you didn't manage to get any information out of him about whether he's guilty or not then," Hermione says in disappointment.

"Don't worry, he'll slip up one of these days. He's probably already crying for his mummy, eh, Harry?"

"Yeah," I reply half-heartedly.

"I hope he gets caught by one of those dirty shirt-lifters in the showers." Ron snickers.

"Ron!" Hermione admonishes, but I can see the laughter in her eyes.

I think something breaks inside of me then.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione asks, turning towards me and catching my pained expression.

I swallow with difficulty and stand. "I have a slight headache. I…I think I should go."

They stand as well, sympathetic expressions on both of their treacherous faces. My two best friends in the whole world – the first friends I ever had – and if they knew the real me, they would be disgusted. Every gay joke or slander that passes through their lips is another hit on me and my life.

"Bye." I knock urgently on the door for the Vark to let me out and take me back to my cell.

Tears blind my vision as I numbly follow the guard back through the dark corridors.

"Potter! Hey!"

I raise my head as I pass by the other cells on the first level and see Jack peering out at me.

"Jack," I reply despondently.

"Trip and Amari are in court!" he shouts.

"What?"

"Shut it!" One of the guards bangs his club on the bars of Jack's cell.

Jack flips him off and yells around him. "They might be getting outta here today!"

"What? Really?" I can't help but smile.

"Potter!" The Vark yanks on my cuffs and drags me onwards.

"See ya later, Bakari!" Jack adds, just to annoy the guard some more.

I laugh as the guard threatens Jack with the Box as I am led away.

I am unceremoniously shoved back into my cell on the third level and the cell door is slammed shut behind me.

I instantly feel my good mood dissipate as Draco sends me a threatening glare and turns away. That dead weight settles back down around my heart.

I decide to ignore him for now, and climb up onto Amari's bunk bed. I lie down and soon fall asleep, exhausted from being awake for twenty-four hours.

When I awaken again, I notice that it's gotten dark, and that everyone is out for dinner. I jump down to the ground and scrounge up a decent meal from the secret stash.

It's nice to have some time to myself. I haven't been alone once since coming here, and the constant noise and claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded by others at all times can really get to you at times.

I scramble back up from the floor as Draco returns with our cellmates.

"Was Amari at dinner?" I ask him.

Draco ignores me completely and walks over to the sink to wash his hands.

I sigh in annoyance and look to the others to see if they might know. I merely get vacant looks in return.

"Excuse me!" I call out to a passing Vark.

He stops and removes his wand as he comes to stand in front of me on the other side of the bars.

"What is it, Potter?" he snarls.

"Could you please tell me where Amari is?" I ask politely.

"He's gone."

I smile. I'm happy for my friend, but at the same time I'm sad that I won't be able to talk to him anymore, or have that wise voice of reassurance in my ear when I need it.

"And Trip, too?" I ask, hopefully.

"Who?"

"The man he was arrested with," I explain.

"Yep, 'fraid so." The cruel sneer on the guard's face suddenly makes my blood run cold.

"Why's that?" I ask hesitantly.

"What, are you stupid boy?" he exclaims. "Azkaban is no picnic."

"A-Azkaban?" I stutter. "But I thought…"

The guard laughs, and the sound is like the sharp edge of a knife. "They were found guilty, Potter. The lot of them. Sent them off straight away."

I feel as though all the breath from my body has been sucked out as my stomach drops and my hands start to shake.

"But…" I continue to stutter, shaking my head, not believing. It can't be…

"Quiet!" The guard barks. "If you're not careful, Potter, you'll be next. Not another word, do you hear me? Lights out!"

He strides away as if he hasn't just brought my world crashing down around me.

I lift my hands and grip the cold bars as if my life depended on it. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the bars as hot rivulets of tears leak out and stream down my cheeks.

I just want to fold into a ball right here. But I can't. Not with the guards watching, and not with Malfoy there as a witness.

With a determination and will I never knew I possessed, I turn around and return to Amari's bed. I see Draco's white face out of the corner of my eye and ignore him. He still doesn't say a word to me.

I curl up on the top bunk, facing the wall, and bury my face in my hands. The lights have been switched off and we are plunged into darkness. The tears continue to flow and I have to bite my fist to keep from sobbing aloud.

He can't be in Azkaban, he can't. He doesn't belong there. He didn't do anything wrong, anyone in their right mind should be able to see that! He can't go to that place of soulless prisoners and Dementors haunting every cell and every corner, sucking all happiness out along with your very life.

Amari's smell is all around me. I can still hear his voice in my ear as only this morning he told me to smile more often.

I clench my eyes shut as I remember that he also said today that he desperately wanted to be on the outside again. My teeth bite painfully into my skin as I think of his family waiting for him. His wife who comes to visit with pictures of his children. Oh god….his children…

My body shakes as these thoughts and images pass through my mind. I can't stop thinking about him, as soon as I close my eyes I need to open them again because he's there; laughing, smiling, comforting me…

It's like losing Sirius again, and I wonder why this always happens to me.

I let out a stifled sob as the tears continue todampen my pillow through the night.


	16. Your Pretty Life

The morning whistle jerks me awake from my restless sleep, and my eyes feel scratchy and dry as I open them and blearily squint around at my surroundings.

I have not forgotten about what happened yesterday, that heavy weight around my heart is an instant reminder, and with a sigh to match, I heave myself off of the bed and jump down to the ground.

Draco is already awake and sitting up. He glances at me, but I ignore him and stand by the cell door. Draco looks like hell, like he didn't sleep at all last night, or about as well as I did at any rate.

I can't find it in myself to care, though.

"Potter."

I turn my head and he is suddenly beside me.

"What?" I answer emotionlessly.

He looks out into the main room beyond as he replies. "I'm sorry about Amari."

"Is that all?" I snap, not really knowing why I'm bothering to bait him.

Draco frowns and turns to look at me. "What?"

"Are you sorry about Amari, or are you including your physical assault on me in your apology as well?"

His grey eyes flicker to my reddened cheek then quickly skitter away, as if afraid to acknowledge the bruised skin. "I'm not apologizing for anything, Potter. I know how much you liked the man and I only wanted to say that he didn't deserve to be put in Azkaban."

"Maybe they should've taken _you_ instead," I mumble, not really meaning it, but feeling rather unforgivable this morning.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"You." I walk around him as the cell door slides open and I stand out on the deck, avoiding his probing gaze.

"Potter-" he starts, sounding aggravated.

"Look." I whirl to face him. "You won't accept my apology for what I did to you, and you don't want to be friends, so why not just leave it at that? I liked it better when you weren't speaking to me."

"Fine." Draco's voice sounds a little taken aback, but when I glance at him, his face is a mask of indifference.

We are hustled down to the dining hall after the morning count is completed, and I hurry over to join Jack, Harshad, and Little Slick at our usual table.

I slip into the vacant seat next to Jack as Draco sits on the opposite side further down the bench. Meaning, as far away from me as possible.

"Hey there, Potter," Jack greets me with a sad smile and gives my shoulder a squeeze. "How ya doin'?"

"M'okay." I shrug, trying to ignore the fact that he didn't call me Bakari like he usually does. I guess it would feel wrong with Amari not here and all, but it will now serve as a constant reminder of his absence.

Jack nods and turns back to his breakfast. He lifts his cup of water and holds it aloft. "To Amari and Trip," he says.

We all do the same, and as I drink down the rusty tasting water of Grace, I feel as though someone has died, as though we're toasting their memory instead of the fact that they are no longer in this building with us.

I foolishly hope that the fact that they're not dead will be of some comfort.

The rest of breakfast is a very quiet affair, with everyone lost in their own thoughts. Probably wondering if the same thing will happen to them in time. I know that's what I'm thinking.

Amari's sentence is like a dose of reality. No one is safe in here, especially it seems, are the innocent.

I glance over at Draco. He's pushing his food around with his fork. He's probably wondering the same thing. If he _is_ innocent, that is…

I shake my head and rub my eyes. I'm not starting that suspicious line of thinking again, it won't get me anywhere, especially as I've told him not to talk to me anymore.

Why _did_ I say that? I _do_ want him to talk to me again. Was he offering a truce this morning, or was it just pity? Why must I always act before thinking? Why is he trying to be nice to me all of a sudden?

I feel like I'm going mad with all these unanswerable questions.

"Come on, Potter." Jack slings an arm around my shoulders and stands up, wanting me to follow. "Let's take a walk."

I nod mutely and push my untouched breakfast tray away from me before trailing after him.

Jack leads me outside onto the damp grounds and we slowly walk the perimeter of the yard.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, kiddo?" He shoves his hands into his pockets as he strolls beside me.

"What are you in here for?"

He smiles up at the sky, as if reminiscing. "You don't want to know."

"So…you're guilty?" I ask quietly.

"Yes and no."

I wait for him to explain.

He glances down at me and chuckles. "Let's just say that I'm guilty of the crime they accused me of, but the so-called 'crime' is not really a crime at all. Or rather, shouldn't be."

"According to you," I say with a snort.

"According to any intelligent wizard - which includes myself," he replies smugly.

"So you're really not going to tell me?"

"Don't want to give you nightmares, kiddo." He winks. "But put your mind at ease, it wasn't murder or anything like that. I'm not a hardened criminal like you, Harry Potter."

I laugh and look up into his teasing blue gaze. He takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as we continue.

"Can I have one?" I ask suddenly.

He eyes me for a second then shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

I grin and pull one of the tiny cylinders from the crinkled pack.

"Put it in your mouth," Jack instructs.

I immediately do and Jack holds a lit match to the end.

"Now, hold it with your fingers and start puffing away."

I inhale once and immediately choke.

Jack smirks and claps me on the back, then begins to chuckle as my eyes start watering.

I take the cigarette from my mouth and a horrid taste is left on my tongue.

Jack notices my grimace. "You'll get used to it."

I don't think I want to, I almost say in return, but we are rounding the yard and drawing near the rest of the group that have now ventured out of doors. Including Draco.

I quickly put the cigarette back in my mouth and try to look nonchalant, as if I smoke every day.

Draco looks up and it almost seems as though he's glaring at me.

I shoot him a smug look, then refocus on Little Slick. "Hey, you wanna play Stones?" I ask him.

"Sure, Potter." Little Slick grins, showing his crooked front teeth.

I plop down onto the ground and wait for him to set up the game. I take the cigarette out of my mouth, barely managing to keep myself from coughing, and tap the loose ash from the tip. I slip it back between my lips and try to keep from inhaling.

"You move first."

I pick up my first stone and we begin a lengthy match that lasts for almost forty-five minutes. I ultimately win.

"Nice job," Little Slick concedes cheerfully.

"Who's next?" I ask with a feigned pompous air.

Jack chuckles and shakes his head as Slick moves aside.

"I'll play."

I turn and watch Draco instantly take up Little Slick's spot. He sits cross-legged and places his elbows on his knees, staring at me intently.

"Alright," I say casually. I know I don't stand a chance against Malfoy, but I'm going to try my hardest to beat him.

I clear the stones away from the previous game and look up at him. "You move first."

Draco inclines his head in acknowledgment and picks up his first stone, weighing it in his hand as he carefully plots out his move.

This game lasts even longer than the last one. After an hour and a half, a smile slowly stretches my face as I realize that I have him. I'm going to win. I've beat Malfoy. It was almost too easy…

I glance up at him sharply. Is he _letting_ me win? He's never lost a game, not even against Jack, and he's much better than I am.

I finish off my last move and clear the board.

"Congratulations," Draco says, smiling a little.

"Thanks," I reply in a clipped tone. "I'll think I'll watch now. Jack? Why don't you play Harshad?"

"Alright." Jack stubs out his cigarette and takes my place as Harshad replaces Draco.

I sit a few paces away, half watching the game. Draco sits beside me, not saying anything.

I frown and want to reach out and strangle the blond. He has got to be the most confusing individual that I have ever met. First he hates me, then he tolerates me, then he's my friend, then he kisses me back, then he hates me, and now he's…actually, I don't know what he's doing now.

"Something wrong?" Draco suddenly asks, and I realize that I must've sighed out loud.

I decide to go with the truth. "You are the most infuriatingly confusing person that I've ever met."

"Oh? And why's that?" he asks breezily.

I put my head in my hands and grip fistfuls of my hair in frustration. I really want to yell right about now.

"Can you just tell me something?" I ask, my voice somewhat muffled.

"What?"

"Do you hate me or not?" I lift my head to look at him.

Draco stares out across the yard, the light breeze ruffling his blond hair slightly and his gaze looks very far away.

"Yes."

"Yes you hate me?" I clarify, feeling oddly disappointed.

"Yes." He turns to me, and his grey eyes are dark and intense.

"Then why are you sitting beside me?" I demand angrily.

"I dunno…" He shrugs, returning his gaze to the game as Jack whoops joyfully.

I roll my eyes and am about to put my head back into my hands when one of the guards calls to me from across the yard.

It seems I have another visitor.

"Social butterfly, aren't you, Potter?" Jack smirks.

"Shut up." I give him the finger behind my back as I walk away. I can hear his laughter as I am being cuffed and led away. I glance back over my shoulder and am surprised to see that Draco looks….sad. Then he is out of view as I round the corner and enter the building.

I forget about Malfoy and am eagerly anticipating my visitor, hoping against hope that it's Remus. I really don't want it to be Ron or Hermione right now.

"Harry."

I practically glow when I see that warm smile and those light brown eyes surveying me with affection.

"Remus!" I practically throw myself into his arms when I am released.

Remus hugs me back in surprise, stumbling back a few steps from my enthusiasm.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Not really." I give him an extra squeeze. "I'm so glad you're here."

Remus smiles and takes a step back to hold me at arm's length. "What's wrong?"

I sigh and sit down in one of the chairs. Remus quickly draws another one out and up to sit in front of me.

"One of my cellmates, Amari – did I tell you about him?"

"No."

"Well," I continue. "He was really nice, and just a…a really good friend. He even gave me a nickname." I smile a little. "But…he was sent to Azkaban yesterday."

"Oh Harry…" Remus places his hand over mine.

"He was innocent, and he has a family out there, too." I'm glad that I got my tears out of the way last night, or else I know I would've broken down, especially with Remus looking so sympathetic.

"Anyway," I try to move on. "Now he's gone and I'm left with Malfoy."

"Not Draco anymore?" Remus notices immediately.

"Yeah." I run a nervous hand through my hair. "We sort of had a fight, and now we're not really speaking to each other."

"I thought that you had been getting on well with each other as of late," Remus says.

"We were." I nod. "But…I guess you could say I fucked it up."

Remus' eyes search my face. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"No." I shake my head. "It doesn't matter now."

"Harry." Remus puts his other hand on my shoulder. "I think that you need to work out whatever problems you are having with him. Why don't you try apologizing?"

"I have," I say in irritation. "He's just so…stubborn! And…and frustrating!"

Remus tries to hide a smile. "Try talking to him again. Maybe he's had time to think about it, and will be in a more forgiving mood now."

"Yeah, right." I roll my eyes and sit back in the chair. "His temper is worse than mine, and he never lets go of a grudge. I should know."

"Why don't you just tell me what you did to make him so angry?"

I sigh and look away. I can't tell Remus, I just can't. Although…he did once say that it would be okay if I was gay. I just don't know if I can tell him, if I can say those words out loud. I feel so ashamed, and I'm ashamed of _being_ ashamed.

"Harry?"

I look up into his open and caring amber eyes. "Did you mean it when you told me that it's okay?" I hear myself asking.

"That what's…?" Remus trails off and he suddenly smiles softly at my nervousness. "Yes, Harry, I meant it. With all my heart."

I smile a little and fidget with a loose thread on my grey uniform. "You _are_ talking about what I think you're talking about, right?" I ask hesitantly.

"I believe so." Remus chuckles. "So you told Mr Malfoy that you liked him, and that's what made him so angry?"

"No." I flush even more and look down at my hands. "I kissed him," I mumble almost incoherently.

But apparently Remus' hearing is sharp enough to pick it up.

"What?" he gasps.

"Yeah." I shift awkwardly in my seat.

"Harry, I… I don't know what to say. You should have told him of your feelings before you ambush him like that. Especially if you're not sure of _his_ feelings in return. Are you certain that he's gay?"

I can't help but laugh as I answer, feeling so utterly and completely foolish. "No, he told me that he wasn't gay. He told me that he hates gay people, that he has since he was fourteen, and that he lost his virginity to a girl at Hogwarts."

"Harry," Remus begins seriously, then suddenly starts to laugh, the sound slowly building in volume. "I'm sorry, Harry," he pants. "But that's one hell of a tough case you picked out for yourself. I know you never do anything the easy way in life, but did you really need to pick out a straight-as-they-come Slytherin who's also a Malfoy _and_ a gay basher?"

"I know." I continue to laugh helplessly. "I really don't know what I was thinking."

"You can't recruit players to the other side, _believe me_, Harry."

"Huh? Are you…?" I ask, startled.

"No, but I knew someone in school who was, and he had the most horrible crush on me. I felt awful about the whole thing, but he was very persistent."

"So you kissed him one night?" I ask, leaning forward.

"Er…"

My eyes widen. "You _slept_ with him?"

Remus shrugs coolly. "I just wanted to see what it was like. I'm not sorry I did it, and he knew that it was probably just going to be a one time thing."

"So…what was it like?" I ask eagerly.

"Uh…it was okay. It felt good, but the passion wasn't there. On my side anyway."

"Maybe it was just the guy, maybe if you had the right man with you, you would've liked it."

"That could be true. I don't know, I've never really focused on relationships too much because of my condition. I just figured no girl – or man – would be interested."

"That's not true, Remus. Any person would be happy to be with you. You're hot." I wink.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. "Sure, Harry. I think you've been in here too long. And now that we're finished with this little distraction tactic of yours, we will talk about you and Malfoy again."

I smile at his perceptiveness, and return to the subject of the elusive Draco once more. "I know you think that I'm incredibly stupid for doing what I did, but sometimes I got the feeling that there was something there between us – and not just on my side either. I would catch him staring at me, and there were times when we'd laugh and suddenly there was this…feeling in the air. Plus, he closed his eyes when I kissed him."

"Oh?" Remus sits back, thinking. "Well, that sounds…strange. Did he kiss you back, Harry?"

"I don't know," I answer with frustration. "I thought he did, but now I'm not so sure."

Remus absently strokes his jaw as he continues to frown in concentration. "Well, it sounds to me like what you really need to do is just sit down with him for a calm and serious chat. Tell him everything you told me, and just plain ask him if he's interested or if he ever _could_ be interested. And if not, then tell him that you want to be friends and promise not to jump him again."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

There's a loud banging on the door to remind us that our time is up.

Remus stands and I hug him one last time.

"I promise that I'll try to talk to him," I say into his chest.

"Good. Let me know how it turns out next time I visit."

I nod and turn away from him to walk to the door.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't ask about your case," he says.

"What for? Nothing is happening."

"I wouldn't say that," Remus replies secretively.

"What?" I demand. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up, but maybe it will put Mr Malfoy in a better mood for you. I have a meeting with Fudge scheduled for some time next week, and we're going to discuss the possibility of releasing the two of you on probation until the case is brought back to court."

"Really?" I can't help but grin in excitement.

"But I haven't spoken to them yet, so don't get too excited. Dumbledore will be there with me as well, and they will respect what he has to say. Fudge listens to Albus more than that Kaplan bloke."

The guard enters the visitor's room then and proceeds to place my wrists in handcuffs.

I barely notice.

"Thanks, Remus!" I call as I am led out the door. "For everything!"

I see him smile before I am whipped out of sight and forced along the corridor towards my cell.

I try not to let the sight of Amari's empty bed bother me as I step inside and walk past it to the window. My heart feels loads lighter than this morning.

I hear the door slide open behind me, and I turn, ready to face Draco.

"Where are our two batty roommates?" I ask, secretly relieved that they're absent.

"Showers, I think," he answers offhandedly.

I take a deep breath. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Draco considers the request for a few seconds then shrugs in acquiescence. He sits down on the bottom bunk.

I join him, but keep my distance.

"First, I want to apologize for being so rude this morning. You didn't deserve that, you were being very considerate – maybe for the first time in your life-" I can't help adding, "But it was a nice gesture and I'm sorry that I brushed it off."

"And second?" Draco asks, looking up at me.

This is harder then I thought.

"Um…did you really mean it when you said that you hated me?"

"Yes," he replies evenly.

I'm not really sure what to say to that. "Do you think that you could possibly put that aside and we could try being friends again? Or at least be civil to each other until we're out of here?"

He sighs heavily, but doesn't break eye contact. "I can promise to make an attempt at civility, but that's all."

"Well that's something," I mutter.

"But one more…_slip up _on your part and I swear-"

"Alright," I interrupt swiftly. "I get it."

This isn't going as planned at all.

"You kissed me back!" I suddenly blurt out. I clap a hand over my mouth in shock, my eyes wide, staring at the blond.

"What?" he says with quiet fury.

I slowly remove my hand. "You had your eyes closed and you kissed me back," I whisper, digging myself deeper and deeper.

"Are you trying to say that I _enjoyed_ your sexual harassment, Potter?"

"Yes, and I think you're trying to hide who you really are because you're scared to admit it," I say.

"I am not a fucking queer," he whispers, his voice dripping with venom. "I told you, I slept with a _girl_."

"But it was just a part of the act wasn't it?" I push.

His eyes widen and I can see him trying to rein in his anger. "Just because you have obviously become obsessed with me, it does not make it right for you to throw these wild accusations around."

I decide to try for complete honesty. "I'm not obsessed, Draco. I think you can be nice when you let your guard down, you're attractive, protective, competitive, loyal, smart, and have a twisted sense of humour – which I generally enjoy. I like being with you. That's all."

Draco looks stunned.

"Why don't we try that kiss again, and then you can make up your mind?" I suggest boldly.

Draco's lips part in surprise and he glances behind him.

"No one's there," I say reassuringly, as though speaking to a frightened animal.

Draco's eyes keep flicking down to my lips and up to my eyes. He definitely looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"It's okay," I murmur, leaning closer. "Just…one…little…kiss."

I watch in satisfaction as Draco's eyes flutter shut, then I close my own as my lips draw nearer. I tilt my head to the right and softly touch my lips to his.

Draco's lips are warm and soft beneath my own, and it feels so very good. And so very right. I can feel him moving back against me this time, and I tentatively open my mouth a little.

I want to reach out and touch him, but refrain, not wanting to scare him.

My body feels warm and tingly. So much better than when Colin and I snogged that one time.

I almost jump in surprise when Draco's tongue touches mine, and a hand comes up to cup my cheek. I moan softly and tell my brain to fuck off as I reach out and slide a hand behind his neck and stroke his probing tongue with my own. His moan in response almost pushes me over the edge, and I can feel the rest of my body taking an interest in Draco's apparent skill.

I lick along his bottom lip and proceed to drag my lips across his jaw line and cheek, placing tender kisses over the smooth skin. Draco tilts his head back, eyes closed, and another soft moan emits from his open mouth. I immediately dip down and attack his long throat with enthusiasm, wanting to give him as much pleasure as possible. His hands become entangled in my hair as I stop to suck lightly on one particularly delicious spot.

He pulls me back up by my hair and kisses me deeply.

The whistle for the end of work duty suddenly breaks the bubble surrounding our little escape from reality.

Draco pulls away, his hands falling from my cheek and hair.

I sigh, and don't want to open my eyes to see what expression is on his face. But I know have to eventually, so I reluctantly drag them open.

Draco's fingers are lightly touching his lips as though in shock.

I'm afraid to move, let alone speak. I'm afraid that a smile will scare him off at this point.

Turns out I didn't have to do anything. He's able to scare himself off just fine on his own.

"Harry…"

I know that tone is not a good sign.

I sigh in resignation. "You regret it."

"No, not exactly. I just…" He sighs, too, but it sounds wistful and sad. "I just don't want to be gay, alright? Can you understand that?"

"Sure."

I stand abruptly and he grabs my wrist.

"Look, we can be friends if you want, but…that's all. It'll be better this way."

"How?" I ask dully.

"Trust me."

I pull my wrist from his grasp. "I wish I could."

I turn and walk over to the cell door. I tap on the bars and wait.

"Where are you going?" Draco asks from behind me.

"I'm going to take a shower."

One of the guards finally walks over and I tell him where I'm going before he lets me out. I don't even glance back at Draco as I walk away with the guard following closely.

I can't believe I was that close to getting what I wanted. He kissed me back, there's no mistaking it this time, and it was wonderful. Heavenly. Doesn't he realize that we could have that in here, that one spot of happiness and comfort amidst the frightening unknown?

Merlin, I just want to kiss those soft, sweet lips once more…

I'm already addicted.

I wish he would just tell me why he's so scared. Seeing his father having sex with another man couldn't have frightened him _that_ much. Sure, it must have been shocking, but traumatizing?

I enter the change room, not even noticing where I'm going. I automatically open a locker and start to undress. My thoughts still swirling in a mad circle round my head.

Maybe he'll change his mind. If I just lay off him for awhile, and don't mention the kiss again, then maybe he'll see what I see. He looked so fragile and vulnerable, I've never seen him look like that in my life. Like I ripped away every layer that he has and bared his soul for all the world to see. I just wish he'd get over this and accept the truth, I can only be rejected so many times…

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don't even see it coming.

Something heavy strikes the back of my head and a strong hand comes around to clamp over my mouth, silencing my screams.


	17. You Could Be the Reason I Cry

I force myself to remain conscious as I am suddenly lifted off myfeet and dragged out of the locker room and into the nearest bathroom. I can feel a trickle of something, either sweat or blood, running down the back of my neck. That hand is still clamped over my mouth, but I don't think I could've screamed if I'd wanted to. I am paralysed with fear. I know who's hand that is, I recall that same moronic voice and laugh that is whispering in my ear. I don't even know what he's saying, everything is happening so fast, I can't seem to focus on any one thing.

The door slams behind us, and I am spun around and pressed against the cold tiled wall. All three Carnal Boys are leering back at me lasciviously. Their leader, Bailey, is the one holding me.

"Harry Potter," he purrs. "You are just too tempting to resist. So innocent and young. I would even bet that you're still a virgin, aren't you?"

I know he can feel my body shaking in his grasp, but I force myself to stare him directly in the eye and not make a sound.

Bailey narrows his eyes and slams me back against the wall, my head bouncing off of it with a loud thud. Stars swim before my eyes.

"Not feeling talkative, Potter?" he sneers, regaining his composure.

I don't know what made me do it, perhaps I have a concussion, but the simmering anger in me suddenly erupts and I spit into his face with all the contempt that I can muster.

Bailey's eyes widen, as if he's not exactly sure what just happened. I brace myself as he lifts a hand and slowly wipes my saliva from his nose and cheek.

"We're going to have to teach you some manners, Potter," he whispers, his calm voice sending chills up my spine. "We still owe you for the last time, and now…you'll wish you'd never been born Harry Potter."

"Too late," I mutter darkly.

Bailey smirks and turns around to face the others, his strong grip still keeping me in place.

"John, I believe you get the honour of going first."

The daft-looking John chuckles and steps forward, brandishing something that I soon recognize as one of the wooden clubs the guards keep in their belts.

I struggle within Bailey's grasp as John stalks closer, stroking the club with reverence.

He suddenly lurches forward and jabs me in the stomach. I gasp as my breath abruptly leaves my body in a jolt of pain.

John chuckles again, pleased.

Bailey smirks at me. "Told you he was a fun little toy, Ricky."

The third Carnal Boy nods enthusiastically, pale blue eyes never leaving my face.

John licks his lips and raises his club again. I shut my eyes bracingly.

This time the blow strikes me in the side of the jaw, and I know it's broken.

Bailey releases his hold on me and I sink to the ground, one shaking hand clutching at my face.

"Careful, John," Bailey warns. "We don't want him to lose consciousness just yet."

I stare listlessly at the floor as they continue to discuss my upcoming torture. I don't know why I ever bothered to fight back, at any point in my life, it never seems to help. I survive one fight only to find another one staring me in the face.

Maybe someone's trying to tell me something; that I should just give up and lose the fight. Constant struggle starts to wear on a person's spirit after awhile. If I survive this day, then what's next? Being sent to Azkaban? Why should I even try? I don't want to fight anymore…

Bailey seems annoyed by my lack concern.

"Give me the stick, John."

I don't want to fight anymore…

The pain soon meshes together as they take turns beating me with the club and their bare hands, kicking, punching… Their skin shines with a layer of sweat, little rivulets running through he grime on their skin, sick smiles twisting their faces, yellowed teethe bared.

"There should be ample lube, eh, boys?" Bailey laughs perversely.

Through the haze of agony, I wonder what he's talking about. I am now lying on my side, and my eyes drift downwards towards the floor to stare at the dirty and cracked tiles. I try to shift my broken arm slightly to ease the burning ache, and my hand slides slickly over the floor.

My eyesight is growing blurry and clear in turns. I glance down and see that the floor under my hand is red with blood. I want to throw up as I recall Bailey's last words.

The beating, I can handle, I'm used to it. But I don't want to be raped…I don't want…

A tear finally makes its way from the corner of my eye and runs down into my hair.

I don't want to fight anymore…

I'm slowly losing my battle with consciousness, which is a blessing.

I close my eyes and will my body to slip away. Into death or unconsciousness – I don't care.

There is a loud bang and the ruthless assault on my battered body pauses. I can hear yelling and cursing all around me.

I wince at the sudden noise and draw into myself.

I can hear and feel the rumble of feet moving around near my head, shuffling, fighting.

The sound fades, moving further away from me.

Gentle hands are suddenly on me, turning me onto my back.

I hear an audible gasp, then more shouting; frantic, worried.

"Harry!"

The pain is receding, replaced with a welcome numbness. I reach out for the dark, the nothingness just on the edge of my consciousness.

"Harry, don't you fucking give up!"

What's Malfoy doing here?

"Harry?"

I don't want to fight anymore…

"Harry!"

My fingers finally reach the nothingness. It envelopes me, takes me away. I sigh and accept the offered peace that is surely awaiting me.

"Harry!"

And I remember no more.

**_ooooooooo_**

I am aware of sound before anything else. Then smell.

My nose wrinkles slightly as the smell of antiseptic invades my nostrils.

I must be in the infirmary.

I don't remember being in a Quidditch accident. Why am I…?

Someone is now standing over me, touching my cheek, holding a gentle wrist to my forehead.

Madam Pomfrey.

I open my eyes a crack, expecting to see my old school nurse, and am met by the face of a stranger in a grey uniform.

"He's awake,' the woman announces, hazel eyes watching me intently.

Someone else is in the room, and they quickly rush over.

"Harry? Thank Merlin." Remus Lupin's face is pale and drawn as he cautiously perches on my bedside and picks up one limp hand in his own. "How are you feeling?"

How many times have I gone through this exact moment? Me, lying in a hospital bed, friends and family hovering, asking how I feel.

My life is one big case of deja vu. And I fucking hate it.

"Fine," I answer dully.

Remus strokes my fringe away from my face in a very fatherly gesture.

I turn my head away and close my eyes.

"I know you must be tired, Harry," Remus says. "We'll talk later."

I don't want to talk. Ever.

I hear him leave the room after a few moments and I gradually slip back into sleep.

The next two days pass in much the same way.

On the fourth day, I open my eyes and Remus is already sitting at my bedside, reading the Prophet. I can see my own picture staring back at me from the front page.

"How did they find out?" I rasp out, throat sore from disuse.

Remus looks up and smiles. "Morning, Harry. What did you say?" He sets aside the newspaper and holds a glass of water to my parched lips.

I gulp down the cool water until the glass is empty.

"Better?" Remus inquires, taking the glass away and putting it on the bedside table.

I nod, wanting to lift my hand to wipe at my wet mouth, but my arm feels like lead.

"Why can't I move my arm?"

"You're under a restriction spell so that you won't move unnecessarily and further damage your healing injuries," Remus explains.

"How long have I been in here?"

"Almost a week. Six days, to be exact."

I don't want to ask the next question, but I do, with great reluctance.

"Am I still in Grace?"

Remus frowns. "Grace?"

"That's what we call it, the Woodward Institute."

"Ah." Remus nods in comprehension. "Yes, you are."

I try to swallow my disappointment. I was hoping that they'd taken me to an outside wizarding hospital. Even if it was for just a few days, it would've been nice.

"Do you want to talk about what happened, Harry?"

I want to close my eyes again. It's so easy to feign tiredness so that people will leave you alone.

"Why?" I ask wearily, looking away.

"The officials need to know what happened so that we can send those men away. Away from you."

Another day, another fight.

"I don't care what happens to them."

"Harry-"

"If it's not them, then it'll be others. There will always be more."

"But-"

"No," I say firmly. "I'm tired. Can't this wait?"

"Of course, Harry." Remus' brown eyes are full of worry.

I only ever cause other people pain and suffering.

"Thank you," I say with finality, turning my head away and once again pretending to sleep.

"I hope you feel better, Harry," he whispers, squeezing my hand. "I'll be back later."

I hear him stand and leave.

I lie restlessly for a few hours before succumbing to the exhaustion of speaking and staying awake for the first time in almost a week.

I continue to heal for another week in the prison infirmary. I still don't know the nurse's name, she didn't bother to introduce herself and I didn't bother to ask.

Remus hasn't returned like he promised, but I soon realize there is a full moon approaching and he must have had to return home.

I miss his presence, but not the incessant questioning that it brings.

On my last day in the infirmary, one of the guards (the one who kindly unlocks the cuffs from my wrists when I'm in the visitor's room), enters - with Malfoy.

I look up in surprise in the midst of tying the laces on my shoes.

"Mr Malfoy will be helping to escort you back to your cell, Mr Potter," the guard announces. "I thought that perhaps you would like a friendly face to help you."

I am too stunned to speak, so I nod and stand, ready to leave.

I fall into step beside Malfoy, ignoring his little glances as we walk. The guard walks ahead of us, leading the way.

The bleak and depressing atmosphere of Grace almost chokes me as I enter the familiar corridors. After two weeks in a room so separated from the main building of the prison it was all too easy to believe that I was somewhere else, but now, I realize what a mistake that was, for the reality of it crashes down over me and I just want to curl in on myself and scream my protest to the world.

I close my eyes and try to slow my panicked breathing as I enter the cell. I want to turn and bolt. I don't want to be here. I want to be anywhere but here…

Malfoy gently takes my arm and leads me over to the lower bunk bed. I let him ease me down onto the thin mattress in an unresponsive and submissive manner, not really focusing on him.

"Do you need anything, Harry?" he is asking, in a most unfamiliar way. Like he actually cares.

"Leave me alone." I turn away, using the same strategy of feigning exhaustion as a way to end any difficult conversations.

There's a pause, then, "Alright, Harry. I have to report for laundry duty now, but they said that you can have a few more days to rest if you want." He pauses, perhaps to see if I'll answer. "I guess I'll see you later," he finishes quietly.

I don't make any motion to indicate that I heard him, and he eventually leaves.

The next two days pass in virtually the same way; I wake, I walk to breakfast in a stupor, ignore all questions and attempts to draw me into conversation, ignore the worried looks shared by Jack and the rest of them, walk the yard in never-ending circles, return for lunch, lie on the bed in the cell, walk to dinner, return to cell, sleep – or at least try to sleep.

I bear the nightmares in silence. I bear the day in silence. Inside, my brain is a mess of memories and painful thoughts, and other times, it is quiet and still, dark, sad.

Self-pitying and depressed are two words that jump to the forefront of my mind when I think about my recent behaviour, but as someone who has sunk this low, I just don't bloody care.

I will be happy again when I have something to be happy about.

The strangest part during this period is Malfoy's disturbing behaviour. He is quietly helpful and watches over me everywhere I go. I am grateful for the fact that he never allows me to go to the loo or the showers alone. He might not know this, but I appreciate that more than I could ever say. The only time I ever feel anything is when I step back into that shower room and the memories assault me, but Malfoy's hand is there on my back, urging me forward in silent encouragement.

I guess he was serious when he said that he would try the whole 'friends' thing.

And still, I can't feel anything but sad that that is all that he can offer me. So I block him out, and tolerate his gestures of friendship with silent detachment. I would rather that he just go back to the way things were. I could ignore him a lot better if he were stoically ignoring me right back.

I'm so tired of these feelings, like a Dementor is perpetually following me around, sucking out the happiness, filling me with the gloomy and the morose.

How long can I possibly be expected to endure this?

I don't want to fight anymore…

_

* * *

_

. 

_A change of perspective…_

I sit on one of the stone benches located out in the desolate yard of Grace, my eyes very intently watching one lone figure wandering as though lost far off in the distance.

All my thoughts as of late, have centred around one Harry James Potter.

I have never felt this kind of concern for anyone ever in my life. The feeling is so alien that it took me awhile to place it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not some cold-hearted bastard, I might've played one really well in life, but all in all I am not. I've never been in the position to…care for someone until now, I suppose. Then along comes this heroic Gryffindor, trying to worm his way into my heart, and I think on some level, he succeeded.

It was just too much too fast. I just didn't understand him, his need for comfort and a friendly face in the midst of all this madness. I admit it – it scared me. And then him forcing himself on me that way…well, it scared me shitless. I hadn't even thought of him that way until that moment. I was still trying to warm to the idea of us being friends.

Then suddenly – bang! He kisses me.

I lied.

Him kissing me wasn't what scared me shitless, finding myself kissing him back was what did it.

Of all my father's traits, I refuse to let this one be passed on. I've worked extremely hard to do that very thing, even sleeping with Pansy to do it. I'm not going to let some cute, adorably self-less and heroic Golden Boy, change that. I don't even know if I like him that way, sure I might've enjoyed the kisses, but that's purely physical.

I shift on the cold bench and pull this pathetic excuse for a cloak closer to my body.

Damn Potter for coming out here in this weather. I have a good mind to just leave him alone.

Okay, I lied again. I do that a lot.

Harry finally turns and heads for the entrance doors.

I breathe a sigh of relief, mentally making a note to make sure that I force the daft boy to put on a cloak next time.

I stand, my limbs frozen and numb. I curse Potter again and walk swiftly towards the door.

Upon entry, one of the guards approaches me.

"Malfoy, you have a visitor."

I raise a brow in surprise. I haven't had one visitor since my incarceration. It must be Dumbledore. Hopefully he can reach Harry and knock some sense back into that boy.

I remove my cloak at the door to the visitor's room after my cuffs are unlocked. The guard opens the door and waits for me to pass.

"Professor Lupin?"

Remus Lupin is sitting at the table, the frown that had been previously marring his face disappears as I enter.

"Hello, Draco." He smiles kindly.

I sit in the chair opposite and wait for him to explain.

"I'm sure you know why I wanted to speak with you," he says.

"I suppose it has something to do with Ha- Potter."

He nods, ignoring my slip-up. "I'm very worried about him."

"How's that my problem?" I sneer. I may be having a change of heart where Harry is concerned, but that doesn't extend to his adopted family of Mudbloods and werewolves.

Remus looks a little taken-aback by my sharp reply. "I just want to know if he's acting like this all the time, or if it's just around me."

"You mean, like the walking dead?"

"Yes."

I almost feel sorry for the guy, he looks so upset, and it's obvious that he is still recuperating from the last full moon. If Harry's not careful, he's going to inadvertently drive his mangy friend into an early grave.

"He hasn't spoken a word since he came out of the hospital," I say, feeling magnanimous.

Lupin sighs and rubs a weary hand over his eyes. "That's what I was afraid of." He looks back up at me. "Do you think it's the attack that's causing his withdrawal, or…something else?"

I really should be honest, maybe this man can help Harry far better than I can.

"I think it's an accumulation of things," I reply evenly. "The attack was just the last straw, so to speak."

Lupin nods, thinking. "I'm just so thankful that he wasn't…hurt further," he says with emphasis.

I nod before I can stop myself. I feared we were too late already when I arrived at that horrendous scene. The smell of blood, Harry lying in an unmoving heap…

I shake my head with a frown.

"If you can get us out of here right about now, it would really help," I say dryly.

Lupin smiles weakly. "Wish it were that easy, Draco."

"Me, too," I say, one corner of my mouth curling up with reluctant good-humour.

"Did Harry tell you about the probation deal?"

"No." I frown, quickly losing any trace of a smile.

"I guess he didn't have time, it was the same day as the attack," he says, distractedly. "I am in the middle of a series of meetings scheduled with Fudge, trying to broker a deal with him and the Ministry into letting the two of you out and kept elsewhere on probation."

"Like where?" I ask, coolly distant, not wanting to show any spark of hope at his words.

"I suggested - and the headmaster agrees – that Hogwarts would be the best location. It is secure enough for the Ministry's liking, and familiar enough for you and Harry to feel much more comfortable in."

"That's an understatement." I snort.

Lupin smiles. "I don't want to get your hopes up needlessly, but…" he pauses, smile growing, "it looks really good."

I nod interestedly, but inside I am a flurry of excitement and would like nothing more than to jump for joy. A dignified smile and a nod is my outward reaction.

"My time is almost up," Lupin says, disrupting my internal happy dance. "I also wanted to thank you again for helping Harry that day. Who knows what would've happened had you not alerted others to the situation and came to his aid. It's because of you that those sick and twisted men have been sent to Azkaban."

I shrug, nonplussed, but feel a small spark of pleasure at his words.

"I also have a favour to ask of you, Draco," he continues.

It's disconcerting how he keeps using my given name in such a casual way, like we're old friends. It's hard enough getting used to Harry acting friendly, or the way he _was_ acting before he fell into this pit of depression, without having others treating me like an honourary member of the Gyrffindor family.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" I ask indifferently.

"I would be eternally grateful to you if you could keep an eye on Harry for me. I know it goes against your usual habit, but if you could try to bring him out of this and be a friend to him, he could really use one right now. And make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Perhaps it's his last words that cause me to let the mask fall and be truly honest. I never even considered the idea that Harry might give up and…and…

"I already am." I look into his eyes intently, honestly.

Lupin smiles and looks as though he wants to say more but doesn't. "Thank you," he says simply, conveying a lot with those two words.

I nod again and rap on the door to be let out.

Maybe if I tell Harry about the very real possibility of us being released on probation, then he'll snap out it and speak to me, or even smile again. I'm ashamed to admit it, but…I've missed that goofy smile that is so uniquely Harry. That care-free lopsided grin that is so innocent and open, especially for one who has seen the worst the world has to offer.

I've always admired that about him, his will to smile and go on as though the future had already been written and he'd peeked and seen that it had a happy ending.

He can't give up now, not after everything he's been through.

I've got to make sure of that. Somehow. After awhile my attempts at friendship have got to get through to him, I refuse to believe that all this kindness on my part is going to be for not. I've been making myself sick lately with all of this caring and-

I jerk my head up in surprise as a loud exclamation of fear pierces the air.

I recognize that voice, even if I haven't heard it in about two weeks.

Harry.

Without another thought, I take off running for our cell, paying no heed to my accompanying guard as he chases after me.

I reach the top level and see Harry standing horrified on the deck just outside our cell, staring inside with his hands covering his mouth.

I sprint over to him and grab him by the shoulders. "Harry! Are you okay?"

He nods shakily and points a finger behind me.

I tear my gaze from his wide green eyes and glance into our cell. I gasp and almost cry out myself.

One of our barmy cellmates is hanging by a sheet from the barred window. His lifeless body dangling off of the floor, eyes open and unblinking.

A few of the guards, including the one that had been accompanying me from the visitor's room, push past us to deal with the situation.

I turn back to Harry.

"Are you okay?" I ask, trying not to sound as worried as I am.

His dull eyes are staring as though still seeing the man hanging there in front of his eyes.

"Harry?"

I just hope this incident hasn't given him the final push towards wherever it is that he has been steadily working his way towards disappearing to.


	18. Draco Learns to Listen

"Harry?" I try again to pull the boy's gaze back to my own.

He finally turns towards me, eerily slow, and I suddenly want to hit him to get that deadened look out of his normally expressive eyes. They're blank, as if there was nothing behind them; soulless.

"Damn it, Harry," I curse, frustrated. "Come on."

I grab him by the arm and bodily pull him away from the scene.

"We're going out to the yard," I yell back over my shoulder as one of the guards begins to protest our departure.

I continue to drag an unresisting Harry down the stairs, through the sterile and plain common room (used for the when the weather is too disastrous to venture out of doors), and through the steel doors to the cold and barren yard outside; one of the guards dogging our every step until we do in fact reach the safety of the yard, as per my promise. The guard turns and leaves us alone.

I lead Harry across to the opposite side of the yard, closest to the outer fence; the buzzing in the air indicating the presence of a strong magical barrier placed all around the prison.

I let go of Harry's arm and spin him around to face me. That uncontrollable urge to slap him once more boils up inside me as he merely gazes back at me with no visible emotion.

I draw in a steadying breath before speaking. "Alright, Harry. Talk."

I fold my arms over my chest and wait.

Harry turns and shifts his blank gaze out beyond the prison's shields. "What do you want me to say?"

I sigh inwardly with relief; at least he's speaking again.

"About anything you want," I encourage. "Maybe you should start with what's bothering you."

At first I don't think that he's going to answer, but a softly spoken voice carries across to me on the wind.

"Why do you care?"

I'm ready for this particular question, I just didn't know he'd get to it so quickly.

"Because like it or not, Harry, we're in this together; you look out for me and I look out for you."

I raise a brow in surprise as Harry snorts softly in disbelief. "You can't even bring yourself to say it, can you?"

"What?"

"That you're my friend," he says, turning towards me, his eyes still dull and lost looking.

"I thought it was implied," I hedge.

Harry's laugh is bitter. "Well, thank you for your reluctant friendship, Malfoy, despite the obvious pain it causes you to be civil to me."

"Now just a minute," I protest. "If wasn't for me, you'd still be in the infirmary, with much more severe injuries that the ones you had. I didn't have to go after you, you know."

"Oh, thank you," Harry bites out sarcastically. "My hero. I should've known you would hold that over me. Tell me, Malfoy, what is it that you want in return?"

I growl in anger and frustration. "I don't want anything, Potter. This isn't about repaying any kind of debt."

"Oh but I think it is." Harry's eyes sharpen, narrowing at me in dawning realization. "This is because I didn't take the easy way out when Dumbledore offered it to me. You think you owe me for that, don't you? Is that what this whole 'friendship' has been based on?"

"No – fuck, Harry, don't invent things to suit your deluded fantasies. Accept reality for once, even though you haven't been living in it for the past couple of days."

Finally some emotion flares into those emerald-coloured eyes. "Well, excuse me for not being bright and cheerful for you, Malfoy. I've been a little preoccupied. Let's see how well you do when everything is suddenly dumped on you at one time."

"You don't know anything about me," I whisper dangerously.

"And I don't intend to start now."

I stop and run an agitated hand through my hair. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go.

"Look, Harry," I try again. "Fighting with each other is not going to do either one of us any good. This 'friends' thing was your idea, and I am willingly going along with it, so stop being such a pessimist."

Harry opens his mouth, then closes it.

"Now," I say calmly, "why don't we start with the hanging man in our cell. Did it really bother you that much to find out that he was dead? He was insane, and I certainly never saw you trying to be his friend."

Harry copies my previous nervous movement, and runs a hand through his own tangled locks. "Not really. I feel horrible. I didn't even know his name. Yet I can't help but think that maybe he's in a better place."

Remus' warning is still in my mind as a little warning signal suddenly goes off in my brain. "Being dead is not better, Harry," I say carefully.

"Can you imagine being locked up in here for almost half of your lifetime?" Harry continues as though I hadn't spoken.

"No, I can't. Which is why I'm so grateful that we will not be trying to break his record."

"How do you know?" Harry asks, challenging. "There is absolutely no evidence to either support or damn us, Malfoy. We could be in here for the rest of our lives."

I try not to shudder at the thought. "Lupin came to visit me today," I tell him abruptly.

"Why?" Harry looks suspicious.

"He told me that it was looking really good that we would be allowed out on probation, and sent to stay at Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes flash with some kind of emotion that's too quick to put a name to, then fall empty once more. "I don't want to hear that," he says. "Until it's a sure thing, I don't even want to know how close we are to…"

"Harry." I step forward and place a hand on his arm. "I wouldn't tell you unless I believed it myself."

Harry raises his eyes to look into my own. "Don't touch me."

"Harry-"

"Stop pretending that you care!" he shouts suddenly. "We'll never be friends, Draco Malfoy."

I frown in confusion as Harry struggles to wrench himself out of my grasp. "Harry, stop."

Harry lets out a howl of pain when he wrenches his arm too hard, and I suddenly realize that I had been inadvertently holding his injured arm, still tender from the attack.

I quickly let go. "Are you alright?" I ask in concern.

"Just leave me alone." With that final request, Harry turns and strides away from me, holding his arm to his body as if to shield it from further harm.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath.

I follow him across the yard to where Jack and the others are now standing in a small group, conversing intently.

"Harry." Jack looks up with a smile, greeting the seething teenager.

I roll my eyes at the dark-haired convict as he glances at me when Harry fails to respond.

"We heard about your cellmate," Jack says sympathetically, glancing curiously at Harry. "That must've been quite a shock."

Again Harry ignores him; his arms wrapped protectively around himself, and those blank eyes gazing off into the distance.

"It was," I answer, turning away from the moody Gryffindor. "It's pretty disturbing seeing a dead body hanging from your window."

"Yeah right."

I stop and turn to Harry, my eyes boring right through him. "What was that, Potter?"

He doesn't even look at me. "How many dead bodies have you seen, Malfoy? I would've thought that you were pretty used to it by now, or was it because you didn't actually kill him yourself that's bothering you?"

I frown at him; more astounded than angry.

"Hell, it must've reminded you of home," Harry continues, oblivious to our incredulous stares. "You were probably expecting your father to come waltzing in at any moment."

With an angry cry, I launch myself towards him and shove him to the ground.

"Don't you ever talk about my father, Potter!" I snarl into his face. "You don't know a fucking thing, about me or my family. I fucking hate you!"

I roughly slam his body down into the ground once more before Jack finally intervenes and pulls me off of him.

"Cut it out," he demands harshly. "If the guards notice, they'll send you both to the Box."

I rip myself from Jack's grasp and I lean over with my hands resting on my knees, panting heavily, my eyes still trained on Harry sitting in the dirt.

Harry rubs at his sore arm unconsciously as he glares right back.

"Come on, Bakari," Jack says firmly. "Let's take a walk."

Harry's face takes on a pained expression for a brief second, then returns to normal. He immediately relaxes his tense posture, his shoulders dropping and fists unclenching; he looks defeated and tired.

Jack helps him to his feet and they start off around the yard together.

I straighten my shirt and try to regain my composure. Why is that every time I try to help the guy out, he always acts like a complete prat?

"How's he doing?"

I look up into Little Slick's concerned brown eyes and shake my head. "How do you think?" I ask, without any real rancour.

"Poor guy," Harshad murmurs, watching the pair.

"He's just replacing his pain with defensiveness," I explain, feeling tired and worn myself. "He's done it his entire life. He doesn't want other people to ask him if he's okay, and he doesn't want them to pity him, and he doesn't want them to think that he's not okay. So basically, he doesn't want to admit that he's human. He's not some all-powerful hero that's destined to save the world, he's just a lonely seventeen year old boy that's been imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit. He was abused as a child, he came face-to-face with Voldemort at the age of eleven, his parents were murdered – that's more than enough pain and suffering for one lifetime, and he's still in his teens. Plus, he's having a hard time dealing-"

I stop. I had almost forgotten that I had an audience as I rambled on and on, mainly trying to figure the boy out for myself. I had almost told them that he was also having trouble dealing with his sexual identity, but I have enough sense to know when to not divulge something that would send the Gryffindor into another fit of anger and silence.

"Dealing with what?" Harshad asks.

"The attack, of course," Little Slick answers for me, sending Harshad a withering look.

Harshad was the only one of the group who hadn't aided me in Harry's rescue, as he was busy doing kitchen duty at the time. I don't even know if Harry knows that Jack and Little Slick were there helping him that day. I guess it's not that important, but if he _is _harbouring feelings for the tall, dark-haired criminal, then perhaps Harry would like to know that Jack had been there.

I shake off the strange pang in my chest that that thought strikes in me. Sadness? Regret? Jealousy? All of the above…?

"You know him well, Draco," Harshad observes.

I smile ruefully. "No I don't. That's what I think I know because, although he would never admit it, we're a lot alike. And then there are times when I just don't understand him at all."

"They're coming back," Little Slick announces, glancing up.

I carefully school my features into a neutral look as Harry and Jack return.

Harry looks much calmer, and I forgo my look of neutrality in exchange for a glare when I see a lit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

Jack pushes Harry towards me a little and I'm surprised to see that the boy looks embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," he says, looking at his shoes. "You were just trying to help and I shouldn't have said those things about your family."

I would've felt better had he been looking me in the eye and not sounding like he'd memorized the damn speech from a manual.

"Wow, I'm impressed that he remembered it all and you didn't even have to write it down for him, Jack," I drawl.

Harry jerks his head up, finally looking me in the eye. I sigh when I see that all previous emotion has once again disappeared and been replaced with that vague look of nothingness.

"Malfoy," Jack says warningly.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

Even that is said with little emotion, taking any sting out of the words and making them sound sad and meaningless.

"And stop blowing smoke in my face, Potter." I wave a hand in front of me to dissipate the wisps of smoke from his cigarette. "That's a disgusting habit. No one's ever going to willingly kiss you if you keep that up."

Harry bites his lip and turns away, absently holding his fag between two fingers as he walks back into the building and out of sight.

"Nice one, Malfoy," Jack says sarcastically.

"Shut-up," I say darkly. "Why don't you go kiss him and make it better?"

"Huh?" Little Slick frowns, confused. "Where did that come from?"

Jack levels me with a look that makes me suddenly feel like a petty child.

"Come on, boys," he says evenly. "It's time for dinner."

I grudgingly trudge behind the others as we make our way into the packed dining hall and sit down.

I look around for Harry, but just as I suspected, the boy is nowhere in sight. I sigh and try to ignore the foul smell of the food as I lift my fork to my mouth. That boy has been skipping way too many meals lately.

I quickly shove some of my dinner into my pockets for him to eat later.

"I don't get you, Malfoy."

"What?" I reply, slowly retracting my hand from my pocket as nonchalantly as possible.

Jack raises a brow at my blank face. "You obviously care for him, why do you treat him like shit on a regular basis?"

"I don't-"

"Oh come off it, Malfoy. You treat him like scum and you know it."

I set down my fork. "I was _going_ to say, that I don't treat him any differently than he treats me."

"I don't want to get into semantics but, did you ever stop to wonder if maybe you start it?"

Harshad smiles. "Remember you said that you and he are a lot alike, and that he reverts to a defence mechanism when feeling vulnerable?"

"Yes, but-"

"So when two people who always go on the defence when feeling vulnerable try to have a conversation about serious things, it obviously is going to turn into a fight unless one of you takes the high road."

"So you want me to just sit there and take his abuse?" I say sceptically.

Jack smirks. "Yes."

"What? You can't be serious."

"Until he realizes that you're not going to attack him in the worst possible way, then he'll stop to think, and just maybe, he'll tell you what he's _truly_ feeling."

"Fat chance," I mutter.

"Try it," Jack urges, sounding very sombre. "If he can't talk to someone, then he'll keep repressing his feelings until…"

He lets the sentence hang, and that little warning bell once again begins to chime in my head.

"Fine," I say, keeping my own worries about my cellmate carefully hidden. "I'll try talking to him."

"No, Draco," Harshad says with a smile. "Don't talk – listen."

I almost roll my eyes, then force myself to stop.

Merlin, the natural response to act sarcastic is so ingrained that I never even noticed it until now. I mean, _really_ noticed it. Someone tries to be helpful and my natural response is to brush off their advice and belittle them.

How could I be so blind? That's just like my father…

I turn on my heel and leave the loud chatter of the dining hall behind me.

That little voice in your head - the one you're not really sure where it comes from - is now whispering at me to hurry and find Harry. I should never have left him alone, especially in the state he's in right now. Lupin is going to kill me…

I race up the stairs and across the deck on level three; the stationed guard's beady gaze following my every move.

The closest guard gives me an exaggerated look, like he's _so_ put out at having to unlock my cell door for me. I get to the door just as he's sliding it open, and rush right on past him and inside.

I sigh out loud in relief when I see Harry, still alive and breathing, by the window.

Harry doesn't look up as I enter. In fact, he doesn't seem to have even noticed that I'm there.

It's then that my heart races in fear. Harry's right hand is slowly moving across his throat; back and forth. And he's not looking _out_ of the window, he's looking at the _bars_ of the window.

It doesn't take me long to realize just what it is the stupid boy is thinking about.

Without a second thought, I rush right over to him and haul him off of where he was sitting on the rim of the sink.

Fear and panic and anger, and a million other emotions flood through me as I stare into those dull green eyes.

I can't slap him again, that doesn't work. He'll retreat back into defence mode. But how can I listen to him if he isn't saying anything?

But he did say something once; he said that I was attractive, protective, smart, loyal and…he said that he liked being with me. He likes…me, despite the way I've treated him, despite the verbal abuse and sarcastic digs.

Harry Potter said that he likes me, and now I'm finally allowing myself to listen to him.

I smile at Harry as he regards me warily, my hands still clutching onto his biceps for dear life.

Merlin, I've been such an idiot.

I pull him towards me and kiss him full on the lips.

Harry squeaks in surprise, but I don't stop until he relaxes his tense body and allows the gentle contact.

I pull back and almost want to faint as the relief and pent-up emotion is finally released. I feel free.

Harry still looks wary. "Malfoy…?"

I smile and wrap my arms around him, pulling him into my embrace. "It's Draco."

Harry shudders for a moment, then wraps his own arms fiercely about my body, laying his head to rest on my shoulder.

"I don't want to fight anymore," Harry is whispering into my neck.

I smile and place a soft kiss to his temple. "It's alright, Harry, you're not alone anymore. I'm here...I'm here..."


	19. You Could Be the Reason I Love

I never want this moment to end. Standing in someone's warm embrace and just letting myself be held. It has been a long and hard struggle to finally get to this point, but now, the past seems to be fading away, leaving only the good. The sensation of the world fading away around you really does happen, and in a prison, that is truly saying something.

I close my eyes as Draco places a gentle kiss to my temple, and I nuzzle in closer, smelling the very salt in his skin from dried sweat. It smells wonderful. _He_ smells wonderful. The whole world suddenly smells wonderful.

I chuckle, my lips brushing against his collarbone.

"What?" he asks questioningly, feeling the reverberations from my laughter.

"I…nothing." I blush, keeping my head down. There's no way I'm telling him that I'm feeling giddy with euphoria - especially when it's because of him. That'll swell his head to twice its size.

"We probably shouldn't do this."

"What?" I say in alarm, opening my eyes and looking at him.

"No…" He smiles affectionately and cups my face in his hands. "Not _us_, I meant displaying this kind of affection out in the open like this."

"Oh, right." I sigh in relief and take a reluctant step back from him.

We both glance out the cell door, checking for any lingering guards. Luckily there aren't any.

"Do you wanna sit down?" I suggest.

"Sure."

Without discussing it, we both climb up onto Amari's old bed and sit side by side. I smile with pleasure when a hand secretly intertwines with mine out of sight from the door, and away from prying eyes.

"So…" I start awkwardly, not quite sure what to say.

Draco smiles and gives my hand a squeeze. "I guess there are a few things we need to talk about."

I breathe out with a smile and look at him. "Yeah."

Draco takes a deep breath and leans his head back against the stone wall behind us, closing his eyes for a moment. "I suppose you're wondering about the sudden change of heart."

"Um, yeah. I'm a little curious," I say with a smile.

Draco glances at me, and I am relieved to see that his eyes are sparkling with amusement. "It's all your fault, you know."

"Good. I gladly accept full responsibility."

"You're such a prat," Draco says with a roll of his eyes, but his tone belies the affection in his words. "It all started when you attacked me in the laundry room."

"I did not-"

He holds up a hand to stem my protest. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

I close my mouth and narrow my eyes at him, conjuring up the best pout I can manage.

"As I was saying, you threw yourself at me and kissed me, and as you no doubt remember, I got a little upset."

"A little?" I snort.

"It wasn't so much the kiss that upset me, but the fact that I wanted to kiss you back."

"Did…did it scare you?" I ask after a pause.

"You have no idea." Draco rubs a hand over his face and back through his blond hair. "It was everything I'd always told myself to ignore, to hide. I'd never kissed a boy before, and promised myself that I never would, and then suddenly there you were – and I wanted nothing more than to stay there and continue kissing you."

"I wish you had," I murmur.

He turns to look at me, eyes full of emotion. "Me too."

"So then what happened?" I prompt, his hand warm over-top of my own.

"So I was angry for awhile; with you, with myself. It was everything that I had ever denied myself to even think about, I just couldn't handle it on top of everything else going on."

"I'm sorry about that," I speak up apologetically. "I should never have just kissed you like that."

Draco flashes me another affectionate smile. "You don't need my permission, Harry. You weren't wrong, I did want you to kiss me, very much."

"But you told me that you weren't gay, so really, I shouldn't have done it." I pause. "That wasn't the moment when you realized that you were gay, was it?"

"No." Draco chuckles. "You don't get credit for changing my sexuality, Harry."

I laugh too, and kind of wish that I could lay my head down on his shoulder while we talk. I think Draco somehow feels the same and gives my hand another comforting squeeze.

"So then," Draco continues, "I kind of stew in my own juices for awhile until Amari is sent away. Deep down I knew that you weren't really to blame, and I felt bad for you when he left, so I tried to talk to you…"

"I remember," I say with regret. "And I wasn't in a very…erm, talkative mood."

Draco smiles at the memory. "No, you weren't." His expression darkens and he raises a finger to softly stroke my cheek. "And then you were attacked by those fucking monsters."

I can't help but shudder at the memory and Draco's hand tightens on mine.

"You think I'd be used to it by now," I try to shrug it off casually. "Violence just seems to follow me around."

I look up and am surprised to see that it looks as though Draco is holding back tears.

"Draco?"

He looks even more miserable as he once again touches a finger to my cheek.

"What is it?" I ask in concern.

"And I hit you, too," he says quietly, the self-loathing evident in his eyes. "I'm no better than the rest of them…no better than him…"

"Who?" I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.

"My father."

"Did he hit you?" I ask hesitantly.

Draco shakes his head and refuses to meet my eyes. "No, he never hit me."

I bite my lip, noting the emphasis on the word 'me.' "Did he…hit your mom?"

"I don't think so…"

I patiently wait for Draco to explain, holding his hand in silent support.

"Remember when I told you that my father had…lovers?"

"Yes," I reply encouragingly.

He lets out a bitter bark of laughter. "Lovers isn't really the right word for it, that word would indicate that actual feelings were involved."

"Draco…"

"No, I need to say this."

I nod and fall silent.

Draco takes a steadying breath, his gaze lost in the distance, remembering. "My father would get these men from the Muggle world, people that no one would remember if they were to go missing."

"Muggles?" I repeat in disbelief.

"He would bring them back to the Manor and use them for a few days, then…dispose of them. He would kill them as if they weren't human beings, as if he hadn't just shared his bed with them." Draco's breath catches in his throat and I quickly put an arm around his shoulders, not caring about the guards anymore.

The blond seems to find strength from that and plunges on.

"After I discovered him that first time in his study, I followed him and discovered what it was he did to hide any evidence of his secret life. It was disgusting, the Muggles looked so scared. They had no idea my father was a wizard, they were like animals being led to the slaughter."

"Oh Draco…" I can't help but sigh sympathetically. "Did your father know that you'd seen anything?"

"No, he never knew. I was a coward, I should've told someone, or confronted him. But I didn't."

"It's not your fault."

"As strange as it sounds, he was still my father," he says unevenly, "and I looked up to him. He'd always been my role model in everything. I didn't want him to be sent to Azkaban. I was scared about what it would do to my family. To me."

I nod in understanding.

"That's not the worst of it though," he continues, sounding pained. "One night I saw my father with a new Muggle. They were both sitting in his study; talking and laughing. It was strange. I'd never seen him so relaxed and easy around anyone outside of the family before, but there he was, sitting there with some stranger, drinking sherry and smiling."

"It wasn't the last time I saw that particular Muggle either. Over the next month I saw him a lot. I found out that his name was Michael. I found out that he'd told my father that he loved him, and I heard my father say those same words back to him. I couldn't believe it, but I was also relieved because I knew that this Michael was saving the lives of quite a few name-less others that would have continued to die."

Draco stops and swallows.

"What happened to him?" I ask in trepidation.

"My father foolishly allowed Michael to live in the east wing of the house after awhile, where no one but my father ever went. I never saw him unless I followed my father to that part of the Manor. Then one night, I woke from my sleep around midnight and heard yelling and screaming. I got up and went downstairs." Draco pauses to lick his lips before carrying on with determination.

"In the dining room were about half a dozen Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. I couldn't move, I just stood there frozen. Voldemort had Michael on the ground in front of him, writhing and screaming under Cruciatus. I heard Voldemort thanking my father for giving him this Muggle to play with. It was obvious that my father had been with Michael in the dining room when Voldemort had unexpectedly shown up."

"What did your father do?" I ask, my mouth dry.

"Nothing. He just stood there and watched. He let it happen. I know my father loved this man, I _know_ it. And yet, he just stood there and watched as Voldemort tortured and then finally killed him before his eyes."

"Did anyone see you there?" I ask.

Draco shakes his head, eyes still unfocused. "No, I finally ran back to my room and locked the door. I felt sick. They were in love, and my father still couldn't bring himself to defend Michael. He couldn't save him. He was selfish and a coward, only caring about his own survival."

I take Draco's chin in my hand and force him to look at me. "You're not scared the same thing will happen to us, are you?"

Draco's inability to meet my gaze is all the answer I need.

"Draco, the very fact that you _are_ worried about this means so much. It shows that you already care."

He finally raises those blue/grey eyes to my face. "But what if it _does_ happen? What if one day it is Voldemort against the two of us, and he gives me a way out? I'm just…I don't know…"

I smile. Strangely, Draco's fears are melting my heart. "Draco, you already risked a lot when you switched sides. That was pretty selfless."

"But-"

"And," I continue loudly. "You already came to my rescue from those Carnal Boys – twice!"

"But-"

"And you also stopped me from…well, you know. Thinking about doing something really stupid."

Draco closes his mouth and gazes into my eyes searchingly. "Were you really, Harry?"

"I was thinking about it," I say uncomfortably, wanting to be honest.

"And now…?"

I smile reassuringly. "I'm feeling much better."

"Because of me?" he asks slyly, the beginnings of a smile twitching at his lips.

"Yeah yeah, don't act so smug, Malfoy." I grin.

"I guess I'm the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Save-The-Boy-Who-Lived."

I laugh, despite the use of that irksome nickname. "I always thought I should have an assistant."

"I am _not_ your assistant," Draco says, insulted.

"Okay. Body-guard then."

Draco considers this for a moment. "That's a pretty big job for one person," he muses. "I'd have to be with you twenty-four hours a day."

"You already are," I point out dryly. "I'm afraid I can't pay you in money at the moment, but once we're out…"

"Or," Draco cuts in with a mischevious look. "I could take my payment in a different method."

"Credit card?" I ask innocently.

Draco smirks and quickly kisses me on the left-hand corner of my mouth.

I can't help but smile back. "I thought I was the one paying _you_."

I lean in and give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

Draco licks his lips, pondering. "I don't know if the job's worth it."

I elbow him in the ribs. "You think you deserve a raise?"

He lifts a brow lasciviously and I quickly clap a hand over his mouth.

"Don't even say it," I warn, even as I'm laughing. "Dirty minded thing."

"What can I say? I'm seventeen," he says once I take my hand away.

I roll my eyes and we fall into a companionable silence for awhile, our hands still entwined between us. My hand is getting sweaty, but I don't care.

"The others will be back soon," Draco finally sighs, glancing out the door.

"Yeah," I say glumly, wishing we were still in our two-person cell.

"Anything else you want to talk about before they get here?"

I try to think about all the questions that I wanted to ask Draco if ever given the chance and now I can't remember a single one.

"Well, I have a question for you," Draco says as I flounder.

"And what's that?"

"What do you think of Jack?"

I pause, considering his question carefully. "I think he's a fun guy, and very caring, reckless, funny, honest, and has a hint of danger about him."

"But what exactly do you think of him?"

I frown. "Just what are you getting at Draco?"

"You said you thought of him like your godfather, right?"

"Yeah, they're very similar."

He nods, digesting this. "So, you think of him like…a…parent?"

"Kind of, I suppose. Maybe more like a favourite uncle…" I trail off, suddenly understanding. "You still think I have feelings for him, don't you?"

"Do you?"

"No, ew." I wrinkle my nose. "I told you, he's like a favourite uncle!"

Draco finally relaxes a bit and smiles. "Did you _ever_ have feelings for him?"

I smile reassuringly and put both my hands over his, holding it tight. "No, I never had feelings for him and I never will. I do however, have feelings for you, and hopefully, I always will."

"Good." Draco smiles smugly and leans back against the wall.

"I think I have a jealous boyfriend," I say, watching him with amusement.

"Boyfriend," Draco snorts to himself.

"Yeah, bad term," I agree. "You know, we haven't really talked about what kind of relationship we want to have."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." I bite my lip, wondering how best to put it. "I mean, do you want…um…something long term?"

Draco shrugs and turns his head to look at me. "Let's just see what happens. We should just take it day by day, see if we even work together."

I can't help but feel my heart drop a little in disappointment at his words. "That sounds sensible."

Draco smiles softly as he watches me. "But I would love for this to turn into something permanent, Harry."

"Me too." I immediately grin, turning to meet his gaze.

After another chaste meeting of the lips we both settle back against the wall once more, smiling at nothing and everything.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not going to smoke anymore are you?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Good. I was going to withhold kisses until you did otherwise."

Our other lone cellmate finally walks up to the door and it slides open to admit him. I instantly remove my arm from around Draco's shoulders. Draco and I watch as he saunters over to the bottom bunk and lays down, not once looking in our direction. He disappears from view below us and it feels as if we are in our private cell again.

"Can I ask you two questions?" I whisper to Draco, just in case our cellmate is lucid enough to repeat any of our conversation to someone.

"Remembered them, did you?" he smirks.

"Yep."

"Go ahead."

"Alright," I say, fidgeting slightly. "Were you afraid of telling everyone about your dad's secrets when you freaked out about the Veritaserum?"

"Yes," he replies seriously. "I know my father's in Azkaban and can't be punished further, but those horrible past incidents would have followed me my entire life. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't deserve to be punished for my father's crimes."

I nod. "And the second one is, why did you tell me that you hated me?"

Draco's hand finds mine once again between us and gives it a squeeze. "I guess I did hate you at the time. I blamed you for…well, everything, actually. For making me even consider entering into a relationship with you – another man! – and while we're in prison. I felt vulnerable, which is not an emotion I am too familiar with."

Draco looks concerned as he watches me listening to his explanation. But I completely understand, I can't be angry with him over something like that.

"But then," Draco whispers close to my ear. "I realized that if I'm ever released from this hell-hole, a war will be my welcome home party, so…I decided that I deserved some happiness too."

"Very true," I agree wholeheartedly.

Draco smiles and we both jump a little when the lights are suddenly shut off.

"Is that all?" Draco whispers.

I smile at him in the dark. "If I think of any more questions, I'll let you know."

"Deal." I feel Draco shift around until he is lying down on the bed. "Can we sleep now?"

"Yeah, definitely."

I chew my bottom lip, wondering if it would be too presumptuous to just lie down here next to him.

I gasp aloud then chuckle when two arms suddenly grab me and pull me down to the hard mattress and into Draco's embrace. I smile and snuggle back against his warm front, Draco's arms still wrapped around me like a blanket. It's comforting and feels like home all at the same time. I'm still a little shocked by how easily Draco was able to open up to me. I can feel the honesty between us, the walls now torn down and everything is open. I might not know everything about Draco Malfoy, but at least now he'll tell me anything I want to know. All I have to do is ask.

Draco sighs in his sleep, his warm breath ghosting across my neck, tingling my skin.

I close my eyes in contentment and wait for sleep to come.

I could definitely get used to this.


	20. And Then There Were Four

It takes me a few minutes the next morning to remember that I am actually _allowed _to stare at Draco's peacefully sleeping face in the morning now. I smile to myself and let my eyes rake over his face; from the gently lowered eyelids to the slightly parted lips.

I can't believe everything he's been through. After hearing his story the night before, I now realize just how hard this situation must have been for him. His greatest fear is obviously turning out just like his father, and by being with me, that fear is now a possible reality for him. I was right when I said that he was scared, but it was for the wrong reasons, he's not scared of what it'll do to him, but of what it might do to _me_.

I smile and shift a bit closer before closing my eyes once more.

I'm not worried about Draco. I trust him. As much as the thought surprises me, I know that it's true. Amari gave him a name meaning 'follow the right road,' and I know Draco will live up to it. I've seen how much the blond cares and it fills me with comfort. He is not his father. He is a man in his own right.

I open my eyes when I feel Draco's breathing alter slightly, and I see those grey/blue eyes staring back at me.

I hope he doesn't freak out and regret everything that's happened. What if he decides I'm not worth it? What if-

A sleepily pleasant smile and the gentle press of his lips to my own is my answer.

"Hi." I smile in return, relieved. "Sleep well?"

Draco smiles and yawns, removing his arms from around me and stretching them over his head. "Very well," he says, voice still hoarse with sleep.

"Good." I turn over onto my back and indulge in a nice luxurious stretch myself. "These bunk beds are so much better then those horrible floor mats."

"And it doesn't hurt that we're helping each other stay warm as well," Draco smirks, sitting up and staring down at me.

I grin up at him, my eyes just begging for him to kiss me.

Draco glances at the door then shakes his head at me.

I frown and sit up next to him, looking to the cell door. The guards are now patrolling past, setting up for the morning count. I sigh and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I neatly leap down to the floor and walk over to wash my face and hands at the sink, preparing for yet another day in Grace.

Draco comes up beside me and leans his shoulder against mine as we wash. I flash him a quick smile and bump his shoulder gently to let him know I appreciate the gesture. I wash as quickly as possible with the icy cold water then tuck my reddened hands into my pockets for warmth.

"Um, Draco?" I ask hesitantly as we stand in wait for the door to open.

"Yeah?"

"What do you want to tell the others about…us?"

He frowns. "Why do we have to tell them anything?"

"Don't you think they'll notice?" I say, turning to him.

"No, because we're not going to act any differently in public than we were before."

"Oh, right." I nod, knowing that what he's saying makes sense.

"Harry." He sighs. "You know we can't let anyone know about this. If it got out into the press, it would reflect badly on us and on our chances of being released. You know the Ministry doesn't approve of – of gay people. It could ruin everything."

"I know," I reply defensively.

"I don't think you do," he says. "You can't tell anybody, not even Jack."

I ignore him and stare out at the main hall through the bars of our cell.

"Are you pouting, Potter?" Draco finally asks, exasperated.

Saying no would just sound petulant, so I remain silent.

"Harry…" Draco sighs again.

"What about when we're released?" I ask suddenly.

"What?" He frowns.

"Will you still want to keep it a secret once we're out of here and back in the wizarding world?"

"I…I don't know. I haven't really thought that far ahead," he replies carefully.

"Well, let's just say for arguments sake, that we _are_ still together when we're released and that we're deliriously happy as a couple – what then? Would you still want to keep it a secret?"

"Harry, that's not really fair."

"So that's a no, then?" I say, feeling hurt and disappointed.

He turns towards me and waits until I'm looking at him before speaking. "There are other things to consider, like my spying on Voldemort for instance. If he knew we were together, he would know that I wasn't as faithful as he thought, or he would try to use me against you."

"Fine," I say. "Let's say that we're released, and I kill Voldemort the second I return to the wizarding world – then what?"

"And we're still deliriously happy?" Draco smiles.

"Yes." I try to keep from smiling back and fail miserably.

"Then yes; I would shout it from the rooftops and snog you in front of the Minister of Magic himself."

"I'm going to hold you to that, you know." I laugh in amusement.

Draco laughs and crosses his heart with his finger. "I swear."

The door slides open with a metallic screech and we step forward into line. Our lone cellmate suddenly jumps up from his bed and joins us, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"So, I guess that was our first official relationship fight, eh?" Draco mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

I smile, keeping my eyes front. "Guess so. And we don't even get a make-up snog."

"I thought the usual tradition was make-up _sex_?"

I snort and bite my lip. "Jumping the gun a little, aren't you?"

"Considering that last night was technically our first date and we slept together, then I would have to say no."

"Special circumstances?" I snigger quietly.

"Yeah."

We both smile to ourselves as we make our way down the stairs and off through the corridors to the dining hall. I spot Jack sitting at our usual table and Draco and I make our way over.

"Mornin' boys," Jack greets us heartily.

"Hullo." I smile in greeting at everyone around table.

Draco quickly takes the seat next to Jack, leaving me to sit on the opposite side of the table from them.

Real subtle, I think to myself as I walk around the table and slip into the empty spot.

Draco smirks at me before pulling his breakfast tray towards him and tucking in.

I roll my eyes and dig into my own disgusting plate of mush. I think it's supposed to be porridge, but I could be wrong.

"So boys, what's your job this week?" Little Slick asks us around a mouthful of food.

"Um, kitchen duty, I think," I say, scrunching my face in thought.

"Yep," Draco confirms with a nod.

"Wouldn't want to trade, would you?" Little Slick asks with a raised brow.

"What do you have?" I ask curiously.

"I'm venturing into the wonderful world of urinal cleaning this week. Jealous?"

"No way." I laugh.

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." Jack winks.

"No thanks," Draco grimaces in disgust, carefully inspecting his forkful of grey mush.

"Hannigan."

We all look up to see one of the guards standing behind us, dark eyes glaring down at Jack.

"Yes?" Jack replies easily.

"Come with me," the guard sneers, lip curling in distaste.

"And what is this in regards to?" Jack asks pleasantly.

"You're wanted in court today, Hannigan."

"It's so nice to be wanted." Jack pulls his long legs from under the table and stands.

A worried frown knits my brows as I watch with mounting trepidation.

Jack sends me a reassuring grin and one last wink before he is led off.

My stomach instantly ties itself into knots as Jack disappears from view. I feel sick. This can't be happening again. Not again…

Draco's foot gently nudging my ankle brings me back to reality. I glance across at my…boyfriend? Lover? And he sends me a look that's compassionate and reassuring all at once. I send him a weak smile in return and take a deep breath to calm my racing nerves.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" I'm finally able to ask Little Slick.

"He's Jack, isn't he?" He grins back.

I try to find comfort in the confidence everyone else seems to have in Jack returning to us, but it's just too hard. The memory of Amari is still too fresh in my mind.

"Come on, Harry," Draco says, standing. "We should get going. Dishes to wash and so on."

I nod and push my full tray away from me before rising.

"We'll meet you boys in the yard later," Harshad says. "See if we can't find out something about Jack before then to tell you."

"Yeah. Thanks." I nod again and trail after Draco as he leads the way to the kitchens.

We are soon set to work washing and drying endless piles of dishes and utensils. Strangely enough, the monotonous chore is just what I need. Draco and I don't speak at all as we work, I think he knows there's nothing he can say to reassure me, and I have nothing to say to him. I force all of my energy on picking up the next dish or fork or spoon, and cleaning it of any excess water, then placing it in orderly piles or into waiting buckets.

I try not to think of what could be happening with Jack in that court room, instead I use every ounce of hope that I have to send him good luck and furiously wish for everything to turn out alright.

"Harry?"

I look up as I place the last clean plate on top of the large stack beside me. "Yeah?"

"We're just about done now, can you help me carry this bucket over to the other room?" Draco asks, wiping one hand across his sweaty brow.

"Sure."

I toss my damp towel onto the counter and walk over to take one side of the heavy bucket of silver utensils. We both lift at the same time and awkwardly make our way to the smaller room where the clean dishes and things are kept.

Draco quickly closes the door behind us and turns to face me.

"What are you doing?" I frown.

Draco approaches and draws me into a tight hug. "I've been wanting to do this ever since I saw your face when they took Jack away."

I smile into his shoulder and wrap my arms around him in return. "Thanks. I knew there was a reason I wanted to be with you."

"You mean besides my devastatingly handsome good looks?"

I chuckle and close my eyes as I lay my head on his shoulder. "That's just a bonus."

I sigh, and can feel some of the tension ease out of my body.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I say honestly.

"Same here," Draco murmurs into my hair, holding me close.

"I thought…" I stop and bite my lip.

"What?"

I take a deep breath and press on. "I thought it would take you longer to go from trying to hate me to being so…caring, I guess."

Draco pulls back a little and smiles at me. "This is years of repressed feelings finally able to come out, Harry. Forgive me if I seem a little anxious to play Romeo. Plus, I'm seventeen." He shrugs.

I grin and shake my head. "Hey, I don't have a problem with it."

"But if you even think of telling anyone I've gone soft…" he warns.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I promise, still grinning. "I like my bad-ass boyfriend."

Draco rolls his eyes as I lean up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Come on, we should get going before someone notices we're missing."

I nod in agreement and we walk back out, keeping a safe distance between us.

Draco and I both rush through the musty corridors and burst out into the windy yard, immediately searching the crowd of inmates and patrolling guards for Little Slick or Harshad. And in my case of wishful thinking – Jack.

"Harry!"

I see Little Slick waving to me from across the yard and I take off towards him at full speed, with Draco right behind.

"So? Have you heard anything?" I pant, coming to a halt before him and resting my hands on my knees as I try to regain my breath.

"He did it. The bastard did it."

"What? What did he do?" I demand impatiently.

"He's free." Little Slick's eyes are alight with energy and unmistakeable pride.

"He's…free?" I repeat, unable to believe it. "He's…oh my god…"

I grin and suddenly grab Little Slick in a fierce hug. He laughs and swings me around in jubilation.

"So I take it Jack got out?"

Little Slick sets me down and we look over to see Harshad walking towards our little group, an inquisitive smile on his face.

"Yep," I say proudly.

Draco and I both laugh as Little Slick grabs the usually sedate Harshad and swings him into an energetic embrace.

"Put me down you brute," Harshad demands in a panic.

I grin and look over at Draco. He flashes me a smile, his grey eyes looking more blue than grey, and shining with unmistakeable happiness – for Jack and for me.

I give his hand a quick squeeze while Little Slick and Harshad are looking the other way, wishing I could do more.

Draco squeezes back in understanding.

Harshad pushes Little Slick away from him and tries to straighten his uniform with dignity.

"So what was he in for?" Draco asks them. "He never did tell us."

"Nor us," Harshad answers.

"Even you?" I ask Little Slick in surprise. "Even though the two of you were sharing a cell?"

"Even me," he confirms with a nod. "Jack is a man of mystery, and I think he likes it that way."

"He once told me that he was guilty," I say with a fond smile, remembering.

"Did he now? I wouldn't doubt it."

We spend the rest of our free time talking about Jack and listening to stories of what he did here in Grace before Draco and I arrived. I don't think I've laughed this hard for a very long time. We cap off the hour with a game of Stones, in Jack's honour.

The whistle finally blows and we all part with a smile still etched onto our faces.

I walk over to the tiny sink in our cell and brace myself before sticking my hands under the cold water to wash my face and rinse out my mouth. Draco leans against the wall beside me, waiting.

"Happy?" he asks with a teasing smirk as I continue to smile at nothing.

"How can you tell?" I laugh, wiping my hands on my trousers.

"You're so transparent, Potter," he says, doing his own washing now. "You'd make a horrible spy."

"Good thing I'm not one, then."

Draco shuts off the water and shakes his hands off over the basin, water droplets flying in all directions.

"Is that smile permanent?" he asks, glancing up.

"'Fraid so." I stick my tongue out at him and cross my arms over my chest.

The blond raises a brow and his eyes watch me with a seductive gleam. "I bet I can wipe that smile off your face."

"Oh really?" I ask casually. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

"You'll have to wait." Draco walks over to the door and pauses, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I'm going to take a shower – you coming?"

I try not to think about the double entendre in his words as I gulp and nod. I follow closely behind Draco as we walk down the stairs and head for the shower room. I force down that apprehensive shudder as I enter the locker room, trying to forget about the attack and focus on my gorgeous boyfriend who is sending me these seductively arousing little glances every so often.

"Let's get some towels," he suggests meaningfully.

I try to hide my smirk as I follow him into the towel room. Luckily the tiny space is empty. I walk up behind Draco and trap him against the shelves.

"Did you want something?" he asks nonchalantly, turning around in my arms.

"Yes – you!" I crush my lips to his and his smirk quickly fades as he moans appreciatively and presses his lips back against mine.

He opens his mouth and I moan in response as his tongue strokes against mine for the first time. I press the full length of my body up against his and run my hands up his back and into his soft hair.

I know we can't do more than snog for a few minutes now, but it's definitely worth it. It feels wonderful, and so perfect how we fit together like this. One of his hands drifts down to cup my arse and all coherent thought is immediately driven out of my head. All I know is that I just want to keep kissing Draco forever – on and on and on…

Dangerously, we both let our guard slip as we become hopelessly wrapped up in the other's warm hands and lips. The clicking of a camera is lost amidst the sighs and moans coming from our throats, and the presence of another person standing in the doorway goes completely undetected.

.

* * *

****

. 

****

**_A/N -_** Sorry I didn't do personal review responses this time, but my energy just isn't there yet. Turns out I have bronchitis, which is a lot of fun (heavy sarcasm implied), but I should be better soon and I promise to put personal responses back in for the next time. I'm a little sad that this story is so close to the end now. I think my medicine is making me extra weepy, or the fact the I just watched Finding Neverland. sniff. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed! I just want you to know that you allput a smile on my face. Cheers! 


	21. Come What May

"So, is there anyone you're just dying to shag?"

I snort in response, my fingers still idly carding through Draco's blond hair as we lie side by side on the top bunk in our cell. We had been talking (amongst other things), for a few hours now, mutually deciding to spend some alone time together even if it meant we had to stay up all night to do it safely.

"Come on," Draco is encouraging now, eyes sparkling. "Who was the recurring star in all your wet dreams growing up?"

"Besides you?" I dead-pan.

Draco rolls his eyes and gives my arm - which is currently draped over his chest - a pinch.

"Ouch," I cry, trying not to laugh too loud.

"Do you want to know mine?" he asks.

"Only if it's me."

"Well, it's not," Draco says with an annoyance that I'm hoping is actually affectionate – deep down.

"Okay, who should I get all jealous about?" I finally relent with a smile.

Draco grins. "David Beckham."

"The football star?" I say in surprise. "The _Muggle_ football star?"

"Oh yeah, he's hot."

"You know he's straight, right?"

"Who cares, with that gorgeous arse."

I laugh and tug a little harder than necessary on his hair. "Watch it," I warn. "Or you might be sleeping on the floor mat tomorrow."

"Not tonight?" he asks innocently.

I smile at his perception. "No, I think I want you right here for tonight. What's left of the night anyway."

"Then we should make good use of our time," Draco says with a raised brow.

I chuckle as Draco drags me back down beside him and firmly wraps his arms around me, throwing a leg over mine for good measure. He keeps his eyes open as he softly kisses my lips a few times; slowly, reverently, and without hurry. That wonderful feeling starts tingling away in my stomach again, filling me with a pleasant warmth. Draco begins to move his welcome mouth down to my throat, kissing and sucking at intervals, slowly driving me crazy.

I moan and tilt my head back. "Oh…that feels good."

"Good." Draco smirks against my skin. He continues his downward trek and I gasp quietly as his lips move over my collarbone.

"Wait." I sit up and quickly begin unbuttoning my grubby prison shirt.

Draco sits up and puts his hands over mine, stopping me. "Let me do that," he whispers.

I nod and drop my hands, staring into his eyes as he frees the last of the buttons and pushes my shirt open to expose my bare chest. Draco's eyes roam over my body and I start to feel a little embarrassed, I hope he's not disappointed.

"Not quite abs of steel like Beckham," I say nervously.

Draco smiles softly and pushes my shirt the rest of the way off, slipping it down my arms and then setting it aside.

"Perfect," he whispers, bringing his wandering gaze back to mine.

I blush, and reach for the buttons on his shirt for something to do. I push it off of his shoulders like he did mine, and now it's my turn to look.

Draco's pale skin is luminescent in the dark, his rosy pink nipples standing out on the smooth, hairless expanse of his chest.

He's beautiful.

Draco smiles and tugs me back down to the bed beside him. Our bodies become a hopeless tangle of warm limbs, and our lips meet over and over again, trying to possess the other.

I close my eyes and moan quietly into his mouth, my hands now rubbing up and down the smooth, naked skin of his back. Draco shifts his hips closer, trying to find solid contact to ease the aching in his groin. I slip my hands down to his arse and pull him up against me, hard.

"Merlin, Harry…" he gasps, pulling his mouth away from mine, eyes closed in ecstasy.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to stop," I pant back, thrusting against him again.

"Who said anything about stopping?" he smirks a little breathlessly.

I stop moving and open my eyes. "But…we can't…um-"

"You'll just have to be very, very quiet," Draco purrs into my ear, using his teeth to lightly nip my earlobe.

"Uh…" I groan. "Not if you're going to be doing things like that."

Draco looks down at me with an evil grin. "Oh, I can do much, much worse than that."

I smile in anticipation and pull the blond down on top of my body. Draco leans in to quickly capture my lips once more as I wrap my legs around his waist and allow him to settle between my thighs.

"Tell me what you want, Harry," he whispers between kisses.

I bite my lip as he gives another downward thrust of his pelvis. "Fuck…" I gasp quietly, closing my eyes. "I want…"

"Yes?" Draco encourages while leaving his mark on my neck.

"I want you to touch me."

Draco moans at my words, and the sensation of his erection pushing against my own makes me harden further. He kneels up beside me and deftly unties the tie on my trousers, then his own. He lies back down beside me, and we face eachother in the dark.

I lick my lips and watch him carefully. "Is this…okay?"

He looks surprised. "Of course, why shouldn't it be?"

"I just don't want to rush you into anything."

Draco smiles and strokes a finger down my cheek. "If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have suggested it. Besides, you're the virgin here, Potter, not me."

I chuckle and kiss him hard on the mouth. "I'm going to make you forget all about her," I say with determination, stroking a hand down his naked side. "You'll never want to sleep with another woman again."

"I didn't the first time."

I smile and our kisses are definitely more heated this time, tongues coming out to stroke and arouse. Little breathy moans and sounds of pleasure issuing forth without really knowing whose mouth it's coming from.

Draco slowly slides his hand down my back and lets his fingers brush the curve of my arse just below the waistband of my trousers. I do the same with him, allowing my fingertips to explore and touch, acquainting myself with Draco's firmly rounded backside.

He finally loosens my trousers a little more and brings his wandering hand to my front, his fingertips now exploring the wiry curls of my pubic hair.

I moan into his neck and bite down on the sensitive skin to keep quiet. "Please…" I whisper, now licking over the bite mark I'd just left.

Draco rubs his cheek on the top of my head, like a cat, and drops his hand lower to wrap his fingers around my hard shaft.

I clench my eyes shut and bite my lip – very hard. I have just enough sense to guide my hand around to Draco's neglected erection to reciprocate.

He gasps as I roughly begin to fist him, loving the feel of the hard, velvety flesh in my hand. I desperately want to look down and watch, but I know it would send me over the edge, and I don't want this to end just yet.

I thrust into Draco's hand as he pumps, his grip tightening as his entire body suddenly stiffens.

I guess this _will_ be ending now.

I increase the speed and pressure on his cock, and decide to look down to watch as he comes.

Draco buries his face into my neck and cries out as he spurts out over my fist, the warm liquid now slicking his prick and making it easier for me to stroke as he comes down from orgasm. He shudders against me and I let go when he becomes soft in my hand.

Draco slowly opens his eyes and smiles muzzily at me. "That was…nice. Short, but nice."

"Hmm…I'm glad."

Draco kisses me on the lips then pulls back and watches my face as he runs his hand through the mess on his lower abdomen then brings it back to my trembling cock.

"Oh god…" I moan, throwing my head back, as his now slick hand begins to pump me with enthusiasm.

We both nearly scream when the morning whistle suddenly pierces through the early morning silence with an ear-shattering screech.

"Shit!" I curse as I quickly sit up and stuff my still achingly hard prick back into my trousers and tie them up. I grab my shirt and do up the buttons with shaking fingers.

"Sorry about that, Harry."

I nod and look up. "What…Draco!" I exclaim angrily when I catch sight of the look on his face; his top teeth biting into his lower lip as he vainly tries to hold in laughter. "This isn't funny!"

Draco quickly grabs his own shirt and jumps down to the ground, away from me, laughing loudly.

I narrow my eyes at him, then smirk. "At least I don't have explain to anyone why I have dried semen all over my uniform."

Draco's eyes widen and he looks down at himself in horror. He runs over to the sink and tries to wash away the sticky mess staining his clothes.

I finish with my shirt then hop down to the ground to carefully glance into our cellmate's bunk. He's still out cold. I don't know how he can sleep through that morning whistle blast, but I'm sure glad he's a heavy sleeper.

I lean against the wall and watch Draco frantically rub at his stained trousers.

Draco glances at me and glowers at my smug expression. "At least I don't have to walk around with a hard-on all day, like some kind of walking target."

My face quickly loses its smugness.

Draco winces and turns off the water. "I'm sorry, Harry," he says remorsefully. "I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it like that," I say, forcing a brave smile onto my face.

Draco walks over to me as he slips his wrinkled shirt back on over his shoulders.

"I'll make it up to you tonight," he promises quietly.

"See that you do."

Draco smiles as he finishes buttoning his shirt. I watch as the last of his pale skin is covered up.

Draco smirks as he follows my gaze. "Don't look so sad, you get to see me naked in the shower."

"Yeah, but I'm not exactly allowed to look then, am I?"

"True," he concedes.

The door suddenly slides open behind us and I sigh as we walk out and join the line.

"I'm really starting to fucking hate this place."

Draco glances sideways at me, bemused. "Only now?"

"I'm just…so tired of it all, I guess. I don't know. It just feels as though the Ministry is playing with us, with our lives, and nobody seems to care that we're still here."

Draco smiles softly. "That's only because we're stuck in here without seeing the effect our arrest is having on the outside world. Don't worry, people know we're in here. Your adoring public won't forget about you."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

"Nor will Dumbledore," he adds with conviction.

I heave another sigh, Hogwarts seems so far away now. Did I ever really live outside of these walls?

"Shh!" Draco suddenly hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Vark."

I turn to see one of the guards striding towards us along the upper deck. Instead of checking us off on his list and walking by, he stops to face us.

"You two are wanted in the visitor's room," he says.

We glance at eachother in bewilderment as the guard leads us down to the bottom level and through the corridors towards the tiny visitor's area.

We've never had a visitor this early in the morning before, nor have we had a visitor of any kind for quite a while now. It must be Dumbledore if we're both being summoned. I hope it's good news.

I should've known better.

"Remus." I smile as the door closes behind us with a click and I spot my old professor standing by the steel table.

He looks agitated as he looks up, his hair sticking out in all directions as if he'd been running his hand through it numerous times. I notice he's holding what looks like the Daily Prophet in his hand.

"What's wrong?" I ask hesitantly, searching that young face that holds too many lines for his age.

Remus unfolds the newspaper and throws it down on the table, the front cover facing towards us.

I stare at him a moment then drop my eyes to the newspaper.

There, in all its black and white glory, is a larger than life photo of Draco and I snogging in the towel room.

My jaw literally drops as I can only stare in shock at the unmoving photograph that is now being seen by every witch and wizard in our world. People everywhere are only now sitting down to their breakfast, paper in hand, and reading the bold print letters spelled out across the front page:

'HARRY POTTER IN HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH DEATH EATER SON.'

I stumble over to one of the metal chairs and collapse into it, my eyes still staring at that accusing picture. I'm vaguely aware of a buzzing in my ears as I finally tear my gaze away and look to Remus, pleading for what I know not.

"How…?" I whisper hoarsely.

"I guess that answers the question of whether it's true or not." Remus sighs and sits across from me. "I think you should read it, Harry," he says in a very dead sort of tone. "Both of you."

I blink and glance over at Draco as he comes to sit beside me. I try to gauge the expression on his face, but his emotionless mask is firmly in place. I dearly hope that it's because of Remus' presence, and not a wall that he has put back up to keep me out. I don't think I could stand returning to the way things were between us, but with this new revelation, Draco might be scared off for good.

I push away those thoughts for later, and turn back to read the article beneath the taunting photograph.

'It seems the Boy Who Lived has been caught red-handed in the arms of well-known Death Eater son, Draco Malfoy. The two were recently imprisoned for the murder of Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape, sentence of which has yet to be determined, and are now engaging in lewd acts in the dark corners of the Woodward Correctional Institute, where they are currently being held.

The Prophet's secret inside source has said that the two young teens are now sharing a bed and are rarely seen without the other, even going so far as to conduct their immoral dalliances in the showers and locker rooms of the Institute. When asked to comment on the nature of the boy's relationship within the Institute's walls, Walter Sneed (Woodward overseer and manager), had this to say: "We do not condone relationships of this nature by any means, but can do very little in the way of stopping it from occurring. The men within these walls are the dregs of society, and, unfortunately, are prone to such acts when left to their own devices. We will of course make a full report in the case of Mr Potter and hand it over to the court to decide if further disciplinary action should be taken.'

My hands begin to shake as I read on.

'Past classmates of the two accused have told the Prophet that Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy were never friends during their days at Hogwarts, some even said that they were considered rivals. So what the wizarding public should be asking themselves is: has the Boy Who Lived turned to the side of the Dark? Has he joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named?

This reporter is of the opinion that Harry Potter can no longer be a role model for our children, nor an icon for the Light. It is clear by the photographic evidence, that Mr Potter is participating in activities that can only be described as heinous and perverse. I can only hope that this will have an affect on his impending trial and that the truth of Severus Snape's murder will come to light. It is dark times indeed when the hero we put all our trust and faith in has now fallen into the dark.'

My blood runs cold as I finish the last sentence. I set the newspaper down on the table, my hands now shaking worse than ever, and look up at Remus. I don't even know what to say. I simply stare at him, a million thoughts running through my brain, but not a single coherent idea to focus on. This is a dream - a nightmare. Like an out of body experience, only…I should have expected this. When have I ever been allowed to be happy for more than two seconds altogether?

I startle when Draco quietly slips a hand into mine, holding it tight and laying our two intertwined hands on my thigh.

I look over at him, and I don't see a wall of indifference; his grey eyes are strong and…loving.

I smile weakly at him and can feel a little of the tension flow out of my body, my hands stilling their frightened trembling.

Remus slowly pulls the paper back towards himself and slips it into his bag, out of sight.

"So, we're doomed, right?" Draco asks lightly.

Remus sighs and flashes a reluctant smile at the blond. "Not quite, Mr Malfoy. I don't hear the fat lady singing just yet."

"What did Dumbledore say?" I ask.

"Not much," Remus admits. "He says that there isn't much we can do except to try and repair the damage. I'm not going to lie to you boys, it isn't going to be easy. The wizarding community, while far advanced in most matters, is still in the dark ages when it comes to matters of sexuality. It is archaic, and I don't agree with it, but I'm afraid that's what we're up against."

"What about the Auror's working our case?" Draco asks intently.

Remus shakes his head. "I'm afraid they're not much different than the majority. There are of course a few exceptions, like Tonks, but on the whole, they will not…react favourably to this news. But, they will still do their job. They can't tamper with evidence or stop altogether because of this. They will still be professional in that sense."

"Okay," I say slowly. "Damage control… Maybe if Ron and Hermione come here tomorrow, I can see what…" I trail off at the look on Remus' face.

A horrible thought suddenly strikes me.

"They read the article, right?" I ask, hesitantly.

"Yes," he nods, not quite meeting my gaze.

"And did you…talk to them?"

"Harry…" Remus leans forward in his chair and clasps his hands together bracingly on top of the steel table. "Ron is from a very old, very traditional, wizarding family. His views simply coincide with what his family and what his community believes as a whole. I don't know if you knew, but he and Hermione are dating now. I know she's from a Muggle family, but you know that not all Muggles are proud supporters of gay rights. It would seem her family is one of them, or maybe Ron has influenced her, I don't really know. I think people react this way because they don't understand it, they're not taught at a young age that men and women can love whomever they wish. They're inundated with films and books and television shows that portray the perfect way of life as being a woman, a man, and a couple of kids. Their warped, Disney-fied view of the world is not realistic. It's hurting the people they are repressing, and it's hurting themselves not opening their eyes to the only thing that really matters at all: the freedom to love whomever you wish. Forget conformity, forget society – you only have one life to live, so you might as well be yourself."

I stare speechless at my ex-professor.

"You should run for office," Draco finally says, smirking.

"Yeah right." Remus smiles, sitting back in his chair. "I can see it now: New Minister of Magic is a Werewolf and Proud Supporter of Gay Rights."

"And friends with the notorious Harry Potter; dark wizard to be," Draco adds, chuckling.

"Harry?" Remus turns to me, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

I still can't quite wrap my brain around the fact that my best friends have abandoned me.

"Do Ron and Hermione think I killed Snape?" I ask.

Remus frowns thoughtfully. "I don't think so, not really. You've been accused of turning to the Dark many times before."

"So it's just because I'm gay," I say dully.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's okay." I shrug, feeling hollow. "It's not your fault. I don't know what we'd do if we didn't have you, Remus."

"It seems you're our only ally," Draco says to Remus, while giving my hand a quick squeeze beneath the table.

"What about Dumbledore?" I ask suddenly, my heart in my throat. I don't think I could stand it if one of the wizards I look up to most hated me.

Remus smiles. "You have _two_ allies, boys."

I exhale in relief and glance at Draco. He smiles at me, looking relieved as well.

Remus watches us with a fond expression. "As much as you might think that it's more trouble than it's worth right now, I'm really glad you found eachother. There's hope for the both of you yet if you can still find some glimmer of happiness in here."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, smiling at Remus. "It's been a long journey."

Draco laughs quietly. "A very long and _bumpy_ journey," he adds.

"Makes it all the more worth while in the end, don't you think?" Remus winks.

We turn to look at eachother. "Definitely."

"Oh, that reminds me," Remus suddenly exclaims, digging in his worn, brown bag on the floor. "I brought something for the two of you. I already had it cleared with the guards, and checked over for any magic. I know it's in here somewhere…"

I watch curiously as Remus continues to rummage around in the large bag.

"Aha!" he cries triumphantly.

I lean forward with interest as Remus removes two packages. He hands one over to each of us and sits back with a secretive smile.

I pull the drawstring on the cloth pouch and reach inside. I pull out my hand and stare, then start to laugh.

"A toothbrush?" I exclaim in amusement. "Why Remus, what on earth are you trying to say?"

"Or more likely, what on earth are you trying to encourage." Draco smirks.

I reach back in and pull out a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash, a tube of toothpaste, and a small box of mint-flavoured floss.

"Thanks," I say, still grinning, as I place it all back in the bag and slip it into my pocket.

"_Very_ much," Draco reiterates, leering at me lasciviously.

I giggle and roll my eyes at the ridiculous blond. But he's _my_ ridiculous blond.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it," Remus says, standing and gathering his things. "Don't give up all hope yet, I'm still scheduled to meet with the Minister and some other officials about the idea of letting you out on probation."

"Well that's something, at least," I say, not really believing that anything would come of it. Especially when it concerns Fudge, he's always been easily swayed by the public, and this new article on me does not bode well for any lenience he might send our way.

"Goodbye, Remus." I hug him fiercely. "Thank you for everything."

"Goodbye, Harry." He returns the hug with just as much force. "Be happy."

Remus shakes hands with Draco, smiling warmly even though the action is so formal.

"Thanks for taking care of him," Remus says quietly.

Draco looks surprised, then smiles. "My pleasure."

I grasp Draco's hand as we walk back through the corridors, one of the guards marching along behind us. I don't care what he thinks about our joined hands at the moment.

"Where are you going?" I ask, as Draco veers away from the dining hall and towards the yard.

"You're not honestly hungry, are you?" he asks.

"No, I guess not," I admit.

We are the first inmates to step out into the yard, and the guard quickly leaves us as we begin to aimlessly wander the barren landscape; still hand in hand.

"Harry, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Draco looks ahead as we walk, our pace meandering and unhurried. "How far did you go with Colin?"

I raise my brows. "Just kissing, mostly."

"Mostly?" he questions.

"You know, some touching and stuff." I shrug. "But nothing below the waist."

Draco nods. "It doesn't bother you that I'm not a virgin, does it?"

I smile and squeeze his hand. "No."

He nods again, then stops walking and stares into my eyes intently. "I want to go further with you."

"You mean…all the way, further?"

"Yeah… do you?" he asks, looking unsure for probably the first time in his life.

I think about it for a second then slowly nod. "Yeah, I do," I say, meaning it.

He smiles a little, then frowns, glancing back at the ugly building that is Grace. "I just wish we could do it without worrying about ending up on the front page of the Prophet."

I can't help chuckling at the thought. "I think that would _really_ scare people."

"No, it would be beautiful," Draco says, stroking a finger down my cheek. "If they could only see the beauty that was in that photograph today… I thought it was breathtaking, myself."

I smile and glance around before wrapping my arms around Draco's waist and snuggling into his warm body.

"What are we going to do then?" I ask, closing my eyes with a yawn.

"I don't know…"

We're silent as we both try to figure out a way to be alone, without worrying about the Prophet's spy.

I sigh. "I think it's impossible."

Draco grimaces. "Well, I am not having sex in that bunk bed with our cellmate below, probably wanking off to the two of us."

We fall back into silence, and I'm about ready to give up when-

"I've got it!"

"What?" I pull back and look into Draco's excited face.

"We'll fight!"

"Huh?" I reply intelligently.

Draco grabs my hands in his and he looks a little manic as he stares at me very intently.

"If we get into a fight, then the guards will punish us, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Oh. A smile slowly spreads across my face. "And then we'll get sent to the Box for a couple of days."

"Exactly. It'll only be the two of us, no chance of any lurking spies with cameras. Or anyone else, for that matter."

"You're brilliant," I proclaim, smacking a wet kiss on his smug lips.

"I know. Now, come on."

I follow Draco back across the yard, closer to the entrance doors, and we stop and face eachother. I pray that our friends stay indoors long enough for us to stage our mock fight so that they won't come running over and interfere.

"Fuck you, Potter!" Draco yells into my face.

I quickly school my features into an angry glare. "Don't you dare yell at me, Malfoy!"

"It's about time somebody did, Golden Boy."

"You're just jealous," I shout angrily – mock angrily. It's not hard to fall back on our old school day sparring ritual. "You think the whole world should bow down at your feet and worship you. You're just a spoiled brat who gets whiny when he doesn't have enough attention."

"At least I don't have people stepping all over themselves to congratulate me on something I only managed to do with luck."

"Maybe you would have people congratulating you for something if you had ever managed to win a Quidditch game, but oh, it seems I always beat you at that, too."

Draco bites his lip to keep from laughing at that one. "Fuck you."

"Good one," I say sarcastically. I can see a couple of the guards standing nearby, watching us warily. Good, it's working.

"Quidditch is just a game, Potter," Draco spits out my name with contempt. "At least I wasn't a dismal failure at the classes that mattered."

"What? Like potions?" I quip. "Oh yeah, it takes real talent to have your extremely biased head of house hand out points to you for sitting correctly, or for throwing newt eyes at me."

"Don't you dare talk about Professor Snape like that!"

At first I think he's serious, and I pause uncertainly, but a minute shake of his head lets me know that it's okay.

"I can say whatever the hell I want," I challenge loudly.

"Not to me, you can't."

I'm surprised when Draco suddenly launches himself at me and tackles me to the ground.

"We have to make this look even," he whispers into my ear.

I use my knee and ram him in the gut, effectively throwing him off of me and to the side. I pounce on him and push him into the ground. Draco grunts when his head hits the earth, then pulls back and punches me in the jaw. I cry out in exaggerated pain and fall off of him.

Draco rolls back on top of me and pretends to choke me as he leans down close to my ear.

"Are you okay?" he pants quietly.

"Yeah." I smirk for a second, then reach out and pull his hair.

"Ow!" he yelps.

I almost feel like smirking in triumph, but then a pair of black clothed arms suddenly come out of nowhere and grab Draco by the arms, roughly dragging him off of me.

Another guard grabs me and hauls me to my feet.

"What the hell is going on here?" my captor demands furiously.

"Ask _him_!" I spit, pretending to lurch forward towards Draco again.

Draco's eyes narrow with rage and he struggles to break free.

"Enough!"

We both stop, breathing heavily, still glaring at the other.

"This isn't the first time you've caused trouble here, Potter," the guard says threateningly.

I'm a little worried about the fact that he's just saying my name. I glance at Draco, hoping his brilliant plan doesn't blow up in our faces.

"You boys obviously didn't learn your lesson the last time," Draco's captor says with relish. "Looks like you need to learn some more."

I swallow, waiting for what's to come. Maybe this was a bad idea…

"Yeah," my guard agrees gruffly. "I think a _week_ in the Box should do it."

I almost sigh in relief.

"No!" Draco screams, struggling against the guard.

Oh yeah. I'm supposed to be unhappy.

"No, please!" I beg as they drag us towards Grace.

"Shut it!" my guard barks at me. "Or I'll make it longer."

I whimper and sniff as we're led down into the bowels of the prison. It all comes back to me as that foul stench fills my nostrils.

I chance a glance at Draco, keeping my head down towards the floor, as we walk along. He catches my eye and the left-hand corner of his mouth quirks up in a secretive smirk.

I try not to grin.


	22. From Within the Box: Part 2

**A/N -** Just a reminder that this chapter is rated R - _hard_ R, so proceed with caution. Also, this hasn't been edited yet, but I was impatient to get it out because I know you guys have been waiting quite patiently for it. The tale of Jack is at the bottom of this page, for those who are interested. It's just in note form, it's not really a story or anything. Sorry about the delay, but it will probably be about two more weeks before the next chapter isup as it isthe last one and I want to make sure that it's perfect before posting it. Thanks again to my faithful reviewers and I hope you enjoy the rest. Cheers!

* * *

. 

I thank whatever gods there are that the guard handling me removes my cuffs before brutally shoving me down through the trapdoor. I can only hope that Draco receives the same courtesy.

I hit the packed dirt floor painfully hard and roll over with a groan, the air momentarily knocked out of me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I hear Draco land to my right, and then the sudden and loud bang of the trapdoor slamming shut, plunging us into total darkness and wrapping us in silence.

I've never felt so relieved.

Draco curses the moronic guards then shuffles over to try and locate me in the dark. I open my eyes and reach a hand out towards him, I bump my fingers against his knee and he immediately clasps my hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

"You okay?" he whispers.

I nod, then realise he can't see me. "Yeah."

"Fucking Vark," Draco mutters darkly.

I'm uncomfortably aware of my hand still being held in Draco's, and I feel strangely awkward, like I'm expected to immediately drop trou and bend over. I mean, that's the reason Draco wanted to come down here, isn't it?

"Harry?"

I remove my hand and sit up. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're okay? You're awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," I lie easily, leaning back against the dirt wall behind me.

"Don't you know who you're talking to?" Draco says, smirk evident. "I'm a Slytherin, and therefore an excellent liar, which in return also makes me an excellent lie detector." He shifts over, searching for me in the dark, and then leans up against the wall beside me, touching shoulders. "Are you regretting this already?"

I think hard before answering. "No, I'm honestly not, but…"

"What?"

"This kind of feels…cheap. Like renting a hotel room by the hour."

Draco surprises me by laughing. "Oh Harry, this is more than just sex."

"It is?" I frown, wondering what else he had in mind.

"Yes." He kisses me swiftly on the cheek and speaks quietly into my ear. "We get to spend some much needed time together, and get to know eachother – properly. We don't have to hide, this is our freedom. If you'd rather not make love, I'd understand. I know it's not the most ideal of places to lose ones virginity."

I smile and rest my head on his shoulder, already feeling myself relax. "Hey, this might be my only chance, and I refuse to die a virgin."

Draco chuckles, his warm breath tickling my ear. "I swear to you, you will not die a virgin, Harry."

I grin into the dark. "I'm so glad we're thinking about the important stuff."

"Hey, sex _is _the important stuff when you're seventeen."

I want to mention the fact that when you're a seventeen year old with a raving psycho after you, then sex shouldn't be on the top of your to-do list, but I don't want to ruin the mood.

"Did you say 'making love'?" I tease instead.

"Of course," Draco sniffs. "Would you rather I have classed this whole affair up by saying 'buggering in a dirty hole in the ground?'"

"I guess not," I laugh.

"We have an entire week here, I'm not expecting sex right this second."

I gape, glad that he can't see my fish impression. "How…?"

Draco smiles against my hair. "Because I know you, Harry, you're a romantic at heart."

"And I like to be finessed before being fucked senseless?"

"Hmm…maybe I don't know you as well as I thought. That's quite the mouth you have on you." Draco sounds honestly surprised.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

I turn my head and run my tongue around the shell of Draco's ear.

Draco gasps slightly. "What happened to the finessing stage?"

I smirk and continue to trail my lips down away from his ear and to his very tempting throat. "This is it, baby," I purr.

Draco suddenly grabs me by the shoulders and kisses me hard on the mouth. I moan against his fervent lips, the contact creating sparks in my gut. He pulls away, leaving me slightly breathless.

"Don't call me baby," he says in a deep and sexy tone.

I snicker and lean in close to his ear. "I can do whatever I want, I'm Harry Potter."

"Call me baby one more time and you will live to regret it."

I have to say it, if just to complete the bad porno movie scene.

"Make me."

I can't keep a straight face and immediately dissolve into laughter. Draco holds out a few seconds longer than I, but ultimately cracks and his laughter soon rivals my own in volume.

I recover my breath and lean back against the wall. "I think I've spoiled the mood."

"Way to go, Potter," Draco says. "I take back what I said, I don't think there's a romantic bone in your body."

"This place doesn't exactly inspire," I say bemusedly, waving a hand in the dark.

"What's not to like?" Draco asks, looking around. "It's dark and quiet, and we're all alone for an entire week."

"I don't know about you, but I prefer candles, soft, thick blankets, a roaring fire, and champagne, to a dank, dirty, hole in the ground."

"I guess you're the girl in this relationship," Draco muses, straight-faced.

I punch him in the arm. "Prat."

"You're so uncivilised - git."

I smile. "Arse."

"Pillock."

"Wanker."

"Brat."

"Gryffindor."

"Slytherin."

"Dumbledore's pet."

"Snape's…" My smile instantly fades as I realize what I was about to say. "Sorry," I say quickly, seeking out Draco's hand.

Draco sighs and slips his hand easily into my own. "It's okay."

I shift uncomfortably in the dark, the mood suddenly sombre. "I never really asked you, but…it must've been hard to find him like…like that. You must miss him."

"Yeah, I do." He sighs again. "I think what hurts the most is everyone believing that I could've done it, that I could've killed him. I knew him better than anyone, except perhaps Dumbledore, and maybe even better than him. He was my only ally at school, the person I could trust the most, who could teach me things beyond the classroom."

"Was it he who convinced you to switch sides?" I ask, idly stroking my thumb over the top of his hand.

"In a way, I suppose. He told me like it was. He listed the benefits and pitfalls of both sides, then stepped back and let me decide for myself. He never tried to influence me either way. I even wondered if he thought it best that I remain neutral, and not pick any side."

"He must have really cared about you."

Draco is silent, but the slight rustle in fabric lets me know that he's nodding.

"He might've been mean to me almost beyond reason, but he saved my life quite a few times, and he was a very powerful and brave wizard for our side," I offer truthfully, thinking back on the cold and imposing man.

We're both silent for awhile, remembering.

"He didn't deserve to die like that," Draco suddenly says with vehemence.

"No he didn't," I agree quietly.

"Cursed in the dark, not even in a proper battle like he was preparing for, but by some weak, cowardly bastard who took it upon himself to take out a suspicious Death Eater."

"Do you think you know who did it?" I ask, frowning.

"No, but I wish I did. I would kill them the minute I got out of here."

I bite my lip, thinking. "I wonder if the murderer is from the dark side or the light."

"Who on our side would kill him?" Draco asks, puzzled.

"I don't know." I shrug. "But…what if someone suspected him of being more loyal to Voldemort than to Dumbledore?"

"Who did you have in mind?"

"I don't know." I shrug again. "No one, really. I was just thinking out loud I guess."

"Hmm…" Draco hums thoughtfully. "The only one I know who would have possibly have been in that position, is you. Everyone else in the Order trusts him."

"You don't think…?"

"No." Draco gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I just meant that you're the only person who ever doubted his loyalty among our ranks, but I know you would never do something like that to him just because of personal differences. You're much too good." He lifts my hand a places a quick kiss to my skin.

I smile and snuggle into his side a little closer. "Good."

"_Have_ you ever killed someone?" Draco asks after a pause.

I shake my head. "No, but I almost did."

"Who?"

"My godfather."

"Oh…right. I'd forgotten about that whole incident. I guess you're pretty relieved now that you didn't do it."

"Can you imagine if I'd never found out the truth about his innocence? If I'd just killed him without question?" I shudder. The thought had been haunting me ever since my third year.

"But you didn't, and that's what matters."

"I _wanted_ to kill Belletrix Lestrange in the Ministry of Magic in my fifth year."

"You should have," Draco says with conviction.

"Maybe… I don't know. Isn't it strange how both events revolve around Sirius?"

"Not really," Draco says, pulling me closer and resting his chin in my hair. "Sirius was practically your father and only family member, of course you're going to react strongly to anything involving him."

I close my eyes with a sigh. "Let's not talk about death anymore, this is supposed to be our time to be happy."

"_Very_ happy," Draco insinuates, causing me to smile.

"I was so worried that you were going to rebuff me after that article in the Prophet," I say, toying with the frayed cuff of my shirt.

"And I thought you were going to," Draco replies.

"Wow, we're both pretty insecure, huh?" I grin.

Draco laughs softly and nods.

"I'm actually a little amazed that you didn't freak out," I continue tentatively.

"Me too," Draco admits. "At first I was just so completely shocked, then I began to think about it, and I realized that there was nothing anyone could do to us that would make me regret or want to stop having what we have together."

"Really?" I say, feeling my heart swell at his quietly uttered sentiments.

"Yes, really."

"Same goes for me, too. Especially after what Remus said."

"Oh, that reminds me." Draco sits up and I can hear him rustling around in the dark. "His little care package."

"Oh yeah…" I reach into my own pocket with a grin and remove the pouch holding my new toothbrush, paste, mouthwash, and floss.

"We'll be needing this for our little holiday here," Draco says in amusement.

I chuckle as I upturn the pouch and let the contents spill into my hands.

"We don't have any water," Draco points out.

"There's always the toilet water," I reply.

"That's disgusting." Draco shudders and we both stop to listen to the faint gurgling of the broken toilet in the far corner opposite.

"Maybe there's a sink somewhere," I suggest, putting Remus' present back into my pocket and getting on my hands and knees to have a look around.

"Tell me if you find anything."

"Just so you know, I'm sticking my tongue out at you," I say over my shoulder as I begin to crawl around our cell, looking for any kind of hand basin or water source.

"Too bad I can't see it," Draco replies smartly.

I roll my eyes and continue to search. Surprisingly, I locate a cracked ceramic jug filled with tap water. And even more surprising, it magically refills with more tepid water every time some of the water is lost. I clutch my new find to my chest and crawl back to Draco.

"You owe me," I say smugly, plunking the jug down between us, causing water to slosh over the sides.

Draco touches the jug reverently. "Gods, it's been so long since I've seen magic."

I start in surprise. It's true, we haven't seen or performed magic in such a long time. I know how Draco's feeling, like it's a piece of home, comforting in way.

"What I wouldn't give just to hold my wand again and do a simple Wingardium Leviosa," I sigh wistfully.

After forcing the jug to refill several times, just for the sake of causing some magic, we both settle down and brush our teeth. Then floss. Then mouthwash. And then do it all again.

It's heavenly.

I inhale deeply, the mint going straight up into my nose. My teethe feel clean and shiny, my mouth refreshed, and my tongue non-fuzzy.

"This water isn't too cold," Draco says, slipping his dental supplies back into his pocket. "We could even wash with it, since we're going to be in here for much longer this time."

"Good idea, and don't say it," I warn.

"What?" he replies innocently.

"I'm not sinking to your level."

Draco smirks and slips his arms around my waist. I let out a very undignified sort of squeal as he suddenly pulls me into his lap, my knees automatically falling to either side of him, effectively causing me to straddle his lap.

"Because we'll be working up quite a sweat in here?" he purrs seductively.

Even though he's being an idiot, I can't help but feel turned on by his voice – and the fact that my groin is pressed quite firmly against his.

"You still owe me from this morning," I say, loosely draping my arms around his neck.

"Ah, that's right." Draco leans in and rubs his cheek against mine before dropping down to kiss my throat.

"Mmm…" I hum happily as Draco continues to taste my skin, and I tilt my head to one side and close my eyes as the feeling goes right down to my toes.

Draco comes back up and whispers into my ear, "And no interruptions this time."

I slide my arms around his back and kiss him fully on the mouth; a hungry, devouring sort of kiss. I open my mouth and he immediately pushes his tongue inside to stroke against my own. Now my entire body is tingling, not to mention the tightness growing at an alarming rate in my trousers.

I moan and start to lean back, pulling Draco with me. I lay down on the dirt floor and Draco quickly covers my body with his own.

"Remind me to thank Lupin later," Draco mutters against my skin, as he burns a trail down my throat and over my collarbone.

"Mmm…" I nod in agreement, the minty taste of Draco's mouth a very welcome change.

Draco kneels up and begins to unbutton my shirt. As soon as he has it fully opened, I sit up and shrug out of it while he removes his own shirt at a rapid pace.

I lie back down and suddenly Draco's bare chest is against my own, and oh god…it's heavenly. He's so warm and silky smooth, and I can't seem to stop my hands from roaming everywhere, mapping out his beautiful body.

"I wish I could see you," I whisper longingly, nibbling at his earlobe.

"I wish you could see me too," he says, his usual drawl punctuated with a quiet moan.

I chuckle and spread my legs a little wider so that Draco's lower body will rest comfortably between them. And oh the pressure that creates on just the right spot… I experimentally thrust my hips upwards and we both groan aloud at the wonderful feeling.

Draco sits up once again and runs his hands down my chest until his fingers brush the worn tie on my trousers. He pulls the strings free and slowly slides them down my legs along with my boxers. I lift my feet slightly and he pulls everything off, leaving me completely naked - except that he can't see it.

What he can't see, he makes up for by feeling; he starts at my feet and massages them with care, then slowly moves on to my calves, rubbing in slow, methodical circles, massaging the muscle with just the right amount of pressure. When his hands reach my inner thighs, I can't stop myself from shivering and letting out an impatient whine. Draco chuckles and, with the lightest of touches, trails his fingers back and forth over the sensitive skin, teasing on the brink of tickling.

I let my head fall back and close my eyes, giving in to the sensation. I can't see a thing, all I can do is feel. His fingers are soon replaced by his warm, wet mouth. I whimper again as he kisses his way up my inner thigh towards my aching groin.

I let out a loud, wanton moan as he tentatively flicks out his tongue and begins to lap at my balls. I clench my fingers in the dirt ground on either side of me. Draco continues to use his tongue as he nuzzles his cheek against my stiff erection. I can even feel the wetness leaking from the tip of my cock on his cheek as he rubs against me.

I want to scream (and just barely manage not to), when he places his tongue against the base of my prick and licks in one long, firm stroke; root to tip. I moan my encouragement as he swirls his tongue around the head, gathering more pre-come as he tastes and hums his approval.

"Is this okay?" he asks breathlessly, pausing.

"Uhh…yes – yes." I thrust my hips up off the ground impatiently, wanting more. My cock is absolutely throbbing now, bordering on painful.

There's a rustle of fabric and a shifting of dirt as – I can only assume – Draco removes his own trousers and tosses them aside.

He quickly returns his mouth to my cock and I moan at the unexpected touch. I can feel his erection sliding against my leg as he bends over his task. I raise my knee slightly and rub against his cock and heavy ball sacs beneath. Draco moans and presses back against my leg. I can feel the trail of liquid he leaves behind with every pass as he shamelessly ruts against me.

I sink my fingers into his soft hair as he slips the head of my penis into his mouth, tentatively sucking it in curiosity. I arch my back and have to force myself to keep from thrusting up into his mouth.

His mouth is slowly sinking further and further down on my shaft as he takes me in as much as he can without gagging. I appreciate the gesture and continue to moan my approval very audibly.

I can feel the gathering of pressure in my gut, the warning signal that the journey is about to reach it's peak, and I quickly open my eyes and pull Draco's head up off of my trembling prick.

"Stop! Don't make me come yet," I pant.

"Why?" Draco's voice is hoarse and breathless.

"I want to wait for you."

Draco crawls up my body and kisses me passionately, his erection now pressing into my own, and I feel as though I could die from the absolute perfection and overwhelming sensations.

"Tell me what you want, Harry," he asks, kissing my cheek with a soft kind of tenderness that makes me want to cry.

I have to swallow before answering. "I want you inside me." I blush, but the words come out strong and confident.

Draco's breath hitches and he kisses me again with intensity.

"We don't have any…uh, lube," he says haltingly. "This –this could be painful, Harry. I don't want to hurt you."

I think he _is _determined to make me cry.

"It's okay," I say. "Just go slow."

Draco thrusts once more against my cock, creating a burst of pleasure just beneath the skin. I moan.

"Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop," he instructs seriously.

In actuality, I _do_ feel a little scared. I've never gone this far before, and as much as I really, really want it – it's also making my stomach flutter nervously. I know that it _will _probably hurt, but there's no way in hell that I'm stopping this now. I want this – I want Draco, to be this close to him, to feel this connection with him. It's enough to override any misgivings that I might be having.

"Get on your hands and knees," Draco orders quietly.

I swallow and lick my lips as I scramble to obey and arrange myself so that my arse is facing where Draco is sitting, waiting.

I jump in surprise when Draco's tongue is suddenly on me, lapping enthusiastically at my entrance. It feels strange. The idea is a little repulsive to me, but Draco seems fine with it – more than fine actually.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" I gasp.

"No - why? Am I that good?" he smirks, then promptly places a wet, noisy kiss on one of my arse cheeks.

I giggle before I can stop myself. "You're such an idiot."

"Stop talking, Potter," Draco commands. "You're ruining the mood."

"Sorry," I apologize, "I have a habit of doing that."

Draco snorts softly and returns to work. I gasp a little when the tip of his tongue penetrates my hole a little. Oh! That feels…good.

"Uhn…" I groan aloud.

Draco stops and kneels behind me, his erection nudging up against my crevice. He leans over my back and pulls me up a little, his fingers just under my chin.

"Put these in your mouth," he instructs. "Get them nice and wet."

"You _have_ done this before," I accuse with a smirk before opening my mouth and sucking on his long, salty digits.

Once they're good and slicked, Draco removes them from my mouth and I lay back down on my back. I grab beneath my thighs and hoist my legs up to my chest in preparation.

Draco reaches out and runs a hand down the back of my thigh to my entrance once more, then deftly inserts one wet finger. I breathe out slowly, almost meditatively, and close my eyes. My body relaxes and Draco slowly moves his finger in and out, a little deeper each time.

Again, it's a very strange sensation. I'm glad Draco is the one doing it, I would feel all awkward and unsure. It doesn't really feel bad, but it doesn't feel good either. It's just…odd.

Draco carefully inserts another finger and repeats the process.

"Does that feel…gross?" I have to ask.

"No." Draco shakes his head. "It's very warm and soft. How do you feel?"

"Fine," I answer truthfully, relaxing further as we talk.

"Are you ready now?"

I try not to tense at his words. "Yeah, just – just go slow, okay?"

"I promise."

Draco's hand is still absently caressing the back of my thigh as he shifts closer. The contact is very calming and I close my eyes in preparation. I suddenly feel the head of his penis bump against my arse and I unconsciously tense.

"It's okay, Harry…I promise I won't hurt you…" Draco continues to utter quiet words of encouragement and reassurance as he carefully lines himself up then pushes inside.

I hiss under my breath as he enters my body. As careful as Draco is being, it still hurts a little, but I've been through worse, and I just keep reminding myself that as he sinks deeper and deeper.

"There," Draco exhales loudly, now fully embedded. It seems he was holding his breath the entire time. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I nod, relaxing my body as best I can.

It doesn't really hurt now, I just feel very…full. I'd forgotten just how well-endowed Draco was.

Draco leans forward and kisses me lightly on the lips. I relax further and sigh into his mouth. His hips begin to thrust as he places light kisses to every available patch of skin he can reach on my upper body.

I reach down and begin to stroke myself as he continues, quickly strengthening my waning erection. The pleasure is now on par with any feelings of discomfort. The thought that Draco is now inside me is such an amazing realization that I moan aloud. Draco takes that as a signal to increase his speed.

I let go of my thighs and let my legs fall, wrapping them around his waist. Draco lets out a moan that goes straight to my cock, now fully engorged, and I pump my hand faster, keeping pace.

Draco braces his arms on either side of me, his breath now coming faster and heavier, his cock sliding easily in and out of my body. He rises up on his hands and he changes angles as he pounds into me with unbridled enthusiasm, a soft moan issuing forth with every breath.

My eyes snap open and my body bucks beneath him as he suddenly hits something deep inside me.

"Harry…?" he pants in concern, pausing.

"Don't fucking stop," I gasp.

He lets out a breathy chuckle and immediately begins his assault on my prostate once more. I throw my head back and moan his name, now understanding the wonderful addiction that is sex.

"Harry…" Draco breathes, his hips losing all rhythm as he thrusts ruthlessly.

"Touch me," I beg, circling one hand around his wrist and pulling it towards me.

My back arches right off the ground as his warm, damp hand wraps around my throbbing cock and begins to pump firmly.

"Fuck, I'm so close…" Draco is now pressing against my prostate on nearly every stroke, and his strong hand is tossing me off for all he's worth. It's almost too much to handle.

"Me too," he answers back, eyes closed in pleasure.

And then he's there, repeating my name over and over as he freezes inside my body and a flood of warmth suddenly erupts within. I wish I could see his face, his expression at that moment. He gives a few last feeble thrusts as his orgasm fades and then slowly pulls out of me.

Before I can say a word, his mouth is back on my cock and sucking greedily. I moan and toss my head from side to side, burying my hands in his silvery hair. It doesn't take long before I'm coming into his mouth and down his throat. The orgasm is powerful and rips through my body, and all I can think is that it's so much better then when I wank myself off.

Through the post-coital haze, I vaguely wonder if Draco swallowed my come, and if I would ever be able to do that with him. The thought doesn't make me grimace as much as it used to.

Draco crawls up beside me and wraps me in his arms. We're both sweaty and sticky, and I'm pretty sure my back is now coated with mud, but I don't think either of us feels like moving an inch right now. I just want to lie here and enjoy the after glow.

"Was that alright?" Draco finally asks, his voice sounding almost foreign from the note of insecurity.

"It was perfect," I reply firmly. "How did you know…er, so much?"

Draco nuzzles into my messy hair, murmuring quietly, "I've read a few books. Ones that I found hidden in the Manor library."

"Oh." I'm not quite sure what to say to that, I don't really think this is the most appropriate time to be talking about his father.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" I close my eyes as his breath blows softly across my cheek.

"This is going to sound really trite, but…thank you." I open my mouth in surprise. "Please don't say anything," he continues. "Just know that I appreciate everything you've done for me and for giving me a chance to not be such an arse all the time. It's nice to know that someone wants me to be myself, whatever that entails."

I smile and kiss his shoulder. "I once watched a movie where the two lovers were very different, and most would say incompatible - one being very put together and the other being kind of a mess - but despite all the doubts and feelings of inadequacies, one of them says: I like you just the way you are."

I try not to think of Hermione then, as it's one of her favourite movies. I swallow past the lump in my throat and only think of the wonderful, caring man whose arms I am currently lying in.

"Am I the 'put together' one?" Draco asks with a smile.

"He was also the gorgeous one in the relationship," I say ruefully.

"You _are_ gorgeous, Harry," Draco says seriously, his arms tightening around me. "Even covered in grime."

I smile and snuggle closer.

"I would compare us to Romeo and Juliet," he says, musingly.

I yawn as Draco pulls our discarded uniforms up and over our cooling bodies. I feel very tired indeed now.

"Without the tragic ending," I murmur sleepily, my eyes falling shut.

"G'night, Harry," Draco smiles, kissing my hair once more before closing his eyes.

"Night, Draco."

I think it was the best night's sleep I ever had.

The next six days pass like a dream; not one argument, not once did I wonder if Draco and I could really work together. We talked and talked, and I now feel closer to him than I've ever felt with anyone. While I usually told me ex-friends almost everything, they never really understood me. They'd listen, but they didn't really know how it felt to go through everything that I have. Draco understands, without pity and without dismissing my insecurities. That's what is so refreshing, that's what I cherish about being with him.

But a brief spell in paradise can only last so long.

"I can't believe this is our last night here."

I don't want to think about going back to our cell, to a place where we can't be affectionate and open about our relationship. It's going to be so much harder now that we've experienced this wonderful freedom and closeness - not to mention the amazing sex.

"I know," Draco says quietly, combing his fingers through my tangled hair as we lie on the floor together; my head resting on his stomach.

I turn my head and look up at him. "Will you still want to be with me if we ever get out of here?"

"_When_ we get out of here - yes. Unless I'm sick of you by then." He smirks.

I shudder, thinking about how many years some of the other inmates have been in here.

"What?" he questions, feeling the slight tremor in my body.

"I don't want to be in here for years. I don't think I could handle it…"

"You'll have me." Draco cups my cheek and smiles.

Despite all my fears and doubts, Draco still manages to make me feel safe. He's so confident and sure.

"Thank the gods for that," I smile, placing my hand over his.

Draco returns to playing with my hair and I close my eyes with a sigh. "We'll sure throw the papers into a frenzy when we're released."

I groan inwardly. "Fucking press," I mutter. "I wish they'd leave me alone."

"But our picture will be in the paper," Draco says brightly.

I groan aloud this time. "Great."

"And we can make a collage of every single picture and frame it, then hang it on our wall."

"_Our_ wall?" I repeat in amusement.

"We'll be sharing a place of course."

"Will we now?" I chuckle.

"Yes," he says with conviction. "Either a really nice flat or an old Victorian style house. And we'll have lots nice, expensive furniture and huge walk-in closets."

I smile, feeling a strange fluttering in my stomach. "You've really thought about this haven't you?"

"I always plan ahead," he says matter-of-factly.

"What else?" I ask, closing my eyes again and just listening to his voice.

"Well, if we're living in the old house, then I see lots of property as far as the eye can see, and a stable with horses. The house is painted a bright white with dark green shutters. We'll have house elves tending to the garden, and the cooking and cleaning, leaving us to enjoy the day at our leisure. The house will be laid with hardwood flooring, and the walls will be painted in various shades of tan and beige, except for our room, which will be a dark wine red. Very tasteful furniture will be set throughout the house, and we'll never lack for anything."

"And if we're living in the city?" I ask.

"I've changed my mind, I don't want to live in a flat anymore. I want the house in the country."

I shake my head with a smile. "I never picked you for a country boy, Draco."

"Well, it's not like I see us milking cows and shovelling manure or anything. I just want a home with no one else around, and some peace and quiet. And we can always Apparate to the city if we need to."

"Mmm…that sounds nice," I murmur in agreement.

"What do _you_ see Harry?"

"Everything you just said, plus an art studio so you can take up painting again."

Draco leans down and kisses me on the lips. "You remembered," he says, genuinely surprised.

"Sure." I shrug. "That was the first time I thought of you as someone who maybe _didn't _torture kittens for fun on holidays, and actually had a sensitive human side to him."

"Thanks," Draco says witheringly.

I smile and shuffle upwards so that we're lying side by side. "I also see a movie room, with a big, plush sofa and a large screen. And a popcorn maker that makes popcorn that never gets cold, and mugs of butterbeer that never empty."

Draco snorts softly, but I can tell he's smiling.

"And a huge Olympic sized swimming pool in the back yard," I add dreamily. "With a hot tub attached at one end."

"For midnight skinny-dipping adventures."

I laugh. "Definitely."

We both lie in silence for a few minutes, lost in thoughts of the what-if future waiting for us.

"We'll have to be careful about who we tell where we're living, or else the media will set up tents outside our house. We don't want any skinny-dipping photos ending up in the Prophet."

"That would definitely be one for the collage."

I smile and press a kiss to the side of his neck, inhaling the smell of his skin, which has remained remarkably pure and intoxicating despite our current conditions.

"We can always set up wards and hire security," Draco says, rubbing his chin over the top of my head.

My happiness fades a little as I truly think of how we will have to live in the wizarding world after all this. Not only will the media be hounding us, but the general public will call us names and maybe even be a threat to our safety.

"I guess I'm not everyone's precious hero anymore," I say bitterly.

Draco puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. "You may not be a hero to some, but have you ever thought about the part you are now playing for others? The good you are doing to the hundreds of closeted wizards out there too afraid to come out and be themselves?"

"I…I'm not making a difference."

"But you are, Harry. Can you imagine young gay boys seeing that the famous Harry Potter is gay and proud of it? You'll start a revolution."

I roll my eyes with a snort. "Sure…"

"Even if you don't make homosexuality an accepted thing, you'll still make hundreds of others feel better about themselves. They won't feel so alone, they won't think that there's something wrong with them, as if they're sick or twisted."

I smile a little and give his hand a squeeze. "Thanks."

"Just telling you like it is," he shrugs.

I press myself to his side, then smile up at him in surprise. "You're hard."

"What do you expect? You kissed my neck."

I learned early on that Draco's neck is his weakness, a couple of kisses and he melts like butter.

I laugh and trail my lips up and down his throat, pausing to suck on particularly soft or tempting spots.

"Mmm…" Draco moans and tilts his head to the side to give me more room.

I rise up slightly, my chest now half on his, and attack his throat in earnest, marking his pale skin. The evidence will be clear as day when we're sent back to our cell tomorrow.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" I hum against his skin.

Draco lets out another soft moan. "Can you…would you…top tonight?"

I pull back. "Do you want me to?"

"I want our relationship to be equal."

"Draco, that doesn't mean that we have to-"

"Please, Harry. It's important."

I frown, wishing for the thousandth time that I could see his face and read whatever expression was written there.

"Is this about your father?" I finally ask.

"I don't – I just…" Draco breaks off and shakes his head.

I reach out and stroke my hand down his cheek. "I understand. You don't want to always be in the position of dominance, like your father. You want to be able to show that our relationship is a partnership and not a dictatorship."

"Yeah." Draco sighs in relief. "Maybe you should be a psychiatrist or something."

I smile and rest my chin on his chest. "I just understand how a person's childhood can sometimes affect you later in life. Bottom line for you: you don't want to be like your father."

"Right."

"Good. Now let's talk about something else," I suggest, noticing that Draco's erection had waned somewhat during our conversation.

"Or let's not talk at all," he drawls in that tone of voice that makes me shiver.

He definitely knows my weak points as well.

His legs come up around my hips as I lean in to kiss him full on the mouth. I shift my body so that I am lying flush on top of him. We hardly put on our clothes at all this past week, except when the Vark were scheduled to deliver our meagre meals through the trapdoor, and the feel of skin on skin is still as intoxicating as the first time we touched.

Draco runs his hands over my buttocks and squeezes, bringing my hips down harder into him as he lets out a moan. I nibble on one of his nipples then lick over it, lapping at the small nub as it hardens in my mouth. Draco moans and thrusts up into me, his hardened cock rubbing against my lower abdomen and leaving a thin trail of moisture.

I moan around his other nipple as I place my mouth around it and suck, pressing my tongue out and stroking over it every once and awhile.

"Fuck, Harry…" he pants, arching his back. "I want you inside me."

I moan loudly and grasp his prick in one hand, beginning to stroke it slowly, as I reach for the water jug and wet my own swollen member jutting out from between my thighs. I quickly prepare Draco with my fingers, eager to be inside him. I can feel Draco clench around my fingers as I add a third one and thrust them in and out.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he replies breathlessly. "Go on."

I pour some more water out over my cock then kneel down between his raised legs. I reach out and line myself up with his stretched and waiting entrance. My heart is beating rapidly within my chest as I cautiously guide the head of my penis to his hole. I bite my lip as I slowly ease inside, forcing in as carefully as I can past the tight ring of muscle. I pause and Draco relaxes some more, then I push deeper. We continue this until I am buried deep within him, my balls pressed up against his arse.

I let out a soft moan and brace my arms on either side of him.

"You okay?" I ask, forcing myself not to move within him until he says so.

"Yeah…that feels great."

I pull out of him slightly then push back in, his tight channel gripping and stroking my erection within him. It's a wonder I don't come right away. I keep the slow pace for a few strokes, easing Draco into it and extending my pleasure for as long as possible.

"Oh god…" I moan helplessly. "That feels amazing."

"Faster…" Draco moans, thrusting up to meet me.

I brace my weight on my elbows, my bare chest now resting on his, and quicken my pace. His body is so soft and pliant below mine, and his warmth is all around me. He snakes a hand between our bodies and begins to stroke himself, his finely muscled bicep rubbing against my stomach as he pumps his cock.

I lean down and kiss him, thrusting my tongue out and licking his bottom lip, then nibbling on it. He brings his tongue out to play with mine and I moan into his mouth. Hands, tongues, and hips are now all moving furiously, with an uncontrolled passion, burning and fusing our bodies together.

"Harder," he urges plaintively.

The position feels awkward and I can't get any more leverage to push harder.

"Get on your hands and knees," I pant, pulling out of him.

Draco moans at the sudden loss and quickly turns over to comply.

I immediately get behind him and push my straining cock back into his warm passage. We both moan at the almost painful sparks of pleasure. I place one hand on his hip and reach the other around to grip the weeping prick standing stiffly between his legs.

I thrust into him at a furious pace, our skin slapping harshly amidst moans and gasps of pleasure.

"Fuck – yes…yes…" I moan, my hips now snapping forward in quick, sharp jabs.

"Harry…" Draco moans, clenching his muscles around my cock.

I cry out as the orgasm hits me with a sudden ferocity. I call out his name over and over as I empty myself into his willing body, my hips still thrusting all the while. My breath is coming in short pants as I open my eyes and slowly pull my softening cock from his body. It now hangs limp and heavy from between my thighs, coated in my own seed.

"Harry…" Draco pleads, the sound of flesh on flesh still in the air as he strokes himself.

I urge him to turn over and I swallow him to the root in one go. His hands tangle in my hair, fingers clenching tightly, as he thrusts shallowly into my mouth. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat and he cries out. His warm seed pulses into my mouth and I swallow it down without a second thought, suckling his cock as he comes down from orgasm, the last of his come dribbling from the tip of his penis as he releases his hold on my hair and his body falls limp and sated beneath me.

I drop his softened cock from my mouth and wipe my lips with the back of my hand.

"C'mere."

I crawl back up his sweaty body and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around me. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my ear, it's rapid pace coinciding with his breathing as we both begin to calm down, and the inevitable feeling of sleepiness comes over us.

He kisses my hair and I sigh in contentment.

"I don't want to leave," I say, thinking of tomorrow.

"Me neither."

"Can we stage another fight do you think?" I ask hopefully.

Draco chuckles, the reverberations rumbling under my cheek. "I love you, Harry."

I stop breathing for all of three seconds, then find that I have to swallow thickly. "I love you, too, Draco," I say, only now realizing that I think I've been in love with him for quite some time.

Determined not to make too big a deal out of it, I reach beside us and pull our uniforms back up over our bodies, trying to keep the heat cocooned around our tangled limbs.

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco says, settling down and closing his eyes with a sigh.

"'Night, Draco."

With my eyes oddly wet and a lump in my throat, I close my eyes and drift off. Draco's strong arms wrapped around me, keeping me safe.

* * *

. 

**The Tale of Jack (or Richard Hannigan III)**

Jack was not a law-abiding man, but he was a good man. He grew up poor and was ousted onto the streets at a very young age. He stole to survive, but he never dealt in the Dark arts, he was a petty thief and a great guy to go drinking with at the pub.

At the age of thirty-one, he met and fell in love with a young woman named Alice. He met her in Hogsmeade one cold, wintery day, and they sought refuge from the snow at the Hog's Head. There they talked and laughed and both knew at once that they'd met their match. Alice was vibrant and full of life, and had just enough mischeviousness about her to interest him. They complimented eachother perfectly.

Soon they were spending many afternoons together in the village. Afternoons turned to evenings, and then evenings into nights. Jack knew that he'd fallen in love, one thing he never thought he'd ever experience, especially when that love was returned as powerfully as it was with Alice. He never questioned the fact that she always wanted to meet at the Hogsmeade Inn and not at her home, because he didn't have a suitable home to bring _her_ to. He didn't want sweet, perfect Alice to know what kind of life he led. She was so pure and so beautiful.

Everything was perfect, until one day in late May.

Jack went to meet Alice in their usual hotel room in Hogsmeade, but when he stepped into the room, he was immediately met by a group of policemen and one very irate man by the name of Augustus Brewer. Alice was nowhere in sight.

Jack was quickly informed that he was being arrested and sent to Grace for having had sexual intercourse with a minor.

It turns out Alice was only sixteen and still in school. Jack had had no idea.

Alice's father, Augustus, had found out about her illicit affair through her many reported absences from class, and had contacted the authorities straight away. Alice begged and pleaded with her father to drop the charges, she promised not to see him again as long as he could go free. But her father would have none of it.

The court would have probably decided to Jack's favour, if it hadn't been for all the other crimes he'd been arrested for over the years which now came to play against him. Being a minor, no one would listen to Alice's confessions of love for the handsome criminal, they only thought the worst of him and told her that she was too young to understand that she had been manipulated.

Thecourt continually reached an impasse on his case, and so he was sent to Grace to wait out the years behind the Institute's walls. He quickly became forgotten, lost amongst the many weary faces there.

Then one day, while Harry and Draco were still exploring their new relationship, Jack was summoned to court.

There he saw Alice for the first time in five years. She was still as beautiful as before, only she was now twenty-one and a woman in her own right. She stood strong and determined in that large court room, her father glaring at her from a bench off to the side.

Now a legal adult, Alice pled her case to the courts. Saying that she still loved Jack, had _always_ loved him, and that he should be allowed to go free.

After a short deliberation, the courts decided in her favour. If she would pay Jack's bail, then he was a free man.

Reunited once more, the two lovers departed together; Jack shaking the dust of Grace off of his boots for good.


	23. The Right Road

**A/N -** I'm truly sorry about the wait, but I've been working 24/7 and had hardly ten minutes to myself for anything, let alone writing, and I so wanted this chapter to be good since it's the last. So thanks again to everyone who reviewed and who left me encouragement and kind words, I appreciate it all so so much! So on with the story...

* * *

. 

. 

We don't speak a word as we both slip back into our cold and filthy uniforms. Morning has finally come, as it must, and in a few minutes we will once more be subjected to the monotonous routine of this prison. 

I reluctantly tie the laces on my trainers and stand up; physically ready to go, but deep down knowing that I would never leave this sanctuary if I had the choice.

"Harry?" Draco's voice comes suddenly out of the dark.

"Yeah?"

My reply leads him to me, and I am immediately enfolded into his arms from behind. I lean my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes, my hands coming up to clasp his arms around my chest. Draco rocks me slightly from side to side as we stand together.

"How long do you think we have?" I ask quietly.

The harsh sound of metal screeching and bolts being released reverberates from above us.

"Not long," he says into my ear.

I turn around very quickly and press my lips against his. The kiss is rough and frantic, a scrabbling of hands and tongues as we try to hold onto the last seconds of our freedom.

Then the Box is flooded with a painfully bright light and we break apart.

I can already feel the loss of Draco's warmth.

"Alright boys," one of the guards yells down, "your punishment is over."

I squint my eyes against the onslaught of light as I haltingly make my way up the ladder. I emerge into the room above the Box and try to keep my hands from shaking as the Vark locks handcuffs back onto my wrists, my arms twisted tightly behind my back. I bite my lip against the pain and concentrate on Draco's blond head appearing from below.

As much as I hate the idea of leaving the one place where we can be free together, I have to admit that it is nice to see Draco's face again. Once more I marvel at how someone like him wants to be with someone as ordinary looking as me, no matter how many times he's told me that I'm beautiful. I just hope he feels the same once we're on the outside again and he has his pick of men other than old and worn inmates.

There are some insecurities you just never get over, I think.

We both have them: mine is that I'm afraid of losing love, and he's afraid of being _in_ love. Yet somehow, we are still together, and I don't think that'll ever change.

Draco smiles at me as though he's not being manhandled into a heavy pair of metal handcuffs. I smile back, all other thoughts suspended.

My legs are stiff and sore as I am forced along ahead of the guard, back through the dark corridors. I sniff and hope that I haven't caught a cold while being down in the Box. Although, by all rights, I _should_ be sick from that dank and horrid place. Maybe if Draco and I are both hit with the flu, we will get to spend some time together in the infirmary. That would be nice. I sniff again and trudge onwards.

"Where are we going?" Draco asks sharply.

I look up and frown as we are turned down a corridor leading away from the cell block and dining hall.

"Visitor," the Vark grunts shortly.

I glance back at Draco and raise my eyebrows questioningly. He lifts his shoulders in an answering shrug.

"Eyes front, Potter!"

I let a yelp slip past my lips as the guard hits me upside of the head with his club.

"Hey!" Draco shouts angrily. "What the fuck is your problem?"

I freeze as my guard stops and whirls to face him.

"What was that, Malfoy?" he whispers threateningly.

"Draco…" I shake my head desperately, begging him not to do anything foolish.

Draco merely smirks. "I _said_, you pig-headed lout, what the fuck is your problem?"

My guard raises his club again, and, without thinking, I quickly run my shoulder into his arm and knock it down.

The Vark spins to stare furiously at me.

"Harry…" Now Draco looks worried.

The guard sneers at me, then grabs me around the throat suddenly, pushing me back against the wall.

"Harry!" Draco calls out and tries to reach me, but his captor has him firmly in hand.

"You think you're special, Harry Potter," the guard whispers into my face, his putrid breath causing me to wince. "You're just another prisoner in here, Potter. People are going to forget about you soon enough, and then where will you be? In prison without your precious fame and legions of fans. You're nothing, a thing of the past. No one here gives a fuck about you, Potter. And I will personally make sure that the rest of your stay here is very…_memorable_."

I shudder and manage to keep the tears from showing, but I'm sure the fear is written plain as day on my face.

"Malfoy." My guard turns his ugly face to Draco. "You will be sent back to the Box for another two days after you've had your little visit this afternoon."

My mind races, trying to think of a way to get myself thrown back in there with him.

"As for you, Potter." He turns to me, his face mere inches from my own. "I have other plans for you."

He strokes a finger down my cheek and the touch makes me want to shrivel up and die.

Draco growls in the back of his throat as I try to shrink away from the Vark.

I am suddenly jerked forward as the guards begin to once more push us through the maze of corridors. I stare at the ground, the world around me blurred into the background. The last time I was threatened it was by other inmates, but what can I do this time? What can one do when it is the supposed protectors who are posing the threat?

Nothing, is my only answer.

Then we are at the door to the visitor's room. I blink and look up, the world refocusing as my handcuffs are released and I am pushed forwards through the open doorway.

"Remus!" I cry upon spotting the man. I rush forward and throw myself into his arms, not caring about anything at the moment but the need for something familiar and safe.

"Harry," Remus smiles and hugs me back.

Draco walks in behind me, rubbing his wrists. The Vark close the door, giving us our privacy.

I pull back and Remus smiles at me, ruffling my messy hair.

"What on earth have you two been up to?" Remus asks, perching on the edge of the metal table and crossing his arms over his chest, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I wasn't able to speak with you for a _week_."

I look at the floor in embarrassment, and Draco walks up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.

"We had plans," Draco says secretively.

I laugh and Remus shakes his head in amusement.

"Well, I had some rather important news for you two and you made me wait an entire week."

I stare at him, unable to ask.

"What news?" Draco finally says, ungluing his throat.

Remus grins, and my hand finds Draco's and grips it tightly.

"You have been granted probation by the Ministry."

My body sags and Draco tightens his grip on my hand. I don't know what to say, I can't even comprehend what this means…my head is spinning...

"When? What are the conditions?" Draco asks in a rush.

I try to focus on what Remus is saying.

"You've both been granted asylum, as long as you stay within Hogwart's walls. You will not be allowed outside, unless it is imperative and you have at least two chaperones. You're not allowed contact with any outside members of society, so no sending owls anywhere, and all mail addressed to you will be confiscated. No contact with the media is allowed. You may also be periodically called upon to appear in court or at the Ministry of Magic for various reasons dealing with your case."

"So…inside Hogwarts, we can do…anything we want?" I ask, my mouth dry. "We can…go where we want, when we want, and without a chaperone?"

Remus smiles and nods, his brown eyes sparkling.

I let out a shaky breath and shake my head in disbelief. I glance over at Draco and he looks as shocked as I am – but happy.

In one instant, my heart suddenly soars and the meaning of what Remus has said becomes perfectly clear to my stunned mind.

I grin and turn to hug Draco as tightly as I can. Draco grunts in surprise as I practically bowl him over in my enthusiasm. I laugh and feel like dancing around the room.

Remus chuckles, watching. "I thought you might like that bit of information."

"We're leaving Grace…we're leaving Grace…" I joyfully exclaim over and over again.

Draco laughs and shakes his head.

I let go of him and turn to Remus. "When?"

"Today. Right now."

"Oh my god…" I sit down in the nearest chair.

Remus laughs again and pats me on the shoulder. "The paperwork is already done, they just need the two of you to go before the court one last time to make the announcement official. Hopefully, this will be the last time you see the press for awhile."

"Who else will be at Hogwarts?" I ask.

"Just the usual staff; Professors, Dumbledore, myself. Since it is still summer vacation, no students will be there."

"But…what will happen when classes _do_ start up again in a few weeks?" I ask.

"I'm not sure yet," Remus answers, "but I have been reassured that you will not be sent back here."

"Good," I sigh in relief.

Remus stands and gathers up his brown leather bag from the table. "I'll give you boys a few minutes, then we must get going."

He flashes us a smile then exits the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Draco and I stare at eachother.

"Please don't tell me I'm dreaming," I finally say, wondering if there's a chance that I actually am.

"Would you want me to wake you up, though?" Draco smirks.

I grin. "No."

Draco walks over and we lean side by side against the table, our shoulders just brushing.

"Well, this is it, Potter," he says.

I turn to look at him. "So what's next?"

He smiles, still looking straight ahead. "Lots and lots of sex."

"Pig." I roll my eyes with a snort.

"I didn't say with _you_," he says.

I laugh and bump his shoulder. "Good, that frees me up to go look for Jack and have my wicked way with him."

Draco chuckles and grabs a hold of my hand. "Not so fast, I think I might hold onto you for awhile, Potter. There's always the fame aspect to consider."

I stand and pull him after me. "Come on, you poncy git, we have a date to keep."

Draco presses a quick kiss to my cheek before releasing me. I walk over to the door and pause with my hand hovering just above the handle.

"This really is it," I whisper wonderingly.

Draco smiles and turns the doorknob for me. "Shall we?"

I smile at him and we walk through the door together.

"Ready?" Remus smiles when we emerge.

I nod and return the smile as Draco and I follow Remus down the hall towards the courtroom; our wrists free of restraints.

The three of us enter the same courtroom from our first incarceration. Draco and I are brought once more to the centre of the room and sat upon the waiting bench there. As I look around, I notice that there are far fewer officials gathered here today. Only a few members of the Wizengamot and Fudge seem to be present, and they all look extremely bored. The only commotion in the room is coming from the press box to the left-hand side of the room, where flashbulbs are going off every few seconds and reporters are writing furiously on their notepads.

I roll my eyes at them and turn my attention back to the Minister.

Fudge shuffles some papers on the table in front of him and clears his throat.

"Settle down, please," he says, throwing a meaningful glance towards the reporters. "Now, as you all know, we are gathered here today to officially release Mr Harry Potter and Mr Draco Malfoy on probation. The guidelines and rules of said probation will be henceforth read aloud to all members of this court, with a reminder to the defendants that these conditions must be followed to the letter or else they shall be returned to the Institute."

I nod in understanding, determined to be well-behaved this time around and not speak out of turn or argue with people who hold my life in their hands.

Draco is also silently nodding beside me.

Fudge's voice is clearly uninterested as he continues with the proceedings. "As I was saying, these rules must be abided by both parties…"

As the Minister dully drones on with the conditions of our probation, I see someone slip in a side door and walk over to Remus.

This man has my full attention now as I see Remus frown and begin to argue in earnest with the stranger. The man finally shrugs and strides up to the Minister, Remus glaring after him. Fudge stops speaking and leans in as the man begins to speak quietly into his ear.

I glance at Draco and see the blond narrow his eyes at the two whispering men. I lick my lips and switch my focus back to the stranger, straining to hear what it is he's whispering so intently into the Minister of Magic's ear.

After a few tense minutes, Fudge straightens up and clears his throat.

"It seems some new evidence has been brought to light concerning this case," he states authoritively.

My stomach lurches suddenly in fear. Draco stiffens beside me, his grip on my hand tightening. I can only watch and wait as these men decide whether or not to open the doors of freedom to us.

Fudge raises an arm and beckons to someone in the back of the room.

I swivel in my seat and see Malcolm Braddock striding towards the Minister, a smug smile plastered on his face, and a small rectangular box under his arm. I give Draco's hand a squeeze as he glares with barely controlled anger at his fellow Slytherin.

Fudge takes the wooden box from Malcolm and places it on the desk in front of him. Malcolm promptly exits the room, shooting me a triumphant look the entire way.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," Fudge starts importantly, clearly revelling in his position of authority, "this key piece of evidence was found early this morning."

I frown in confusion. If evidence has been found, then why is Remus so angry-looking?

Fudge lifts the top of the box and pulls out a single wand. My wand.

"Hey!" I smile and stand up. "That's my wand! You found it!"

Fudge stares back at me, his eyes going cold. "Yes, Mr Potter. Your wand has been found – and was tested positive for the Killing curse."

"What?" I cry, my gaze skittering from Fudge to Remus, and back again. "It can't be! I…it's not real, I didn't do it! Someone else must have used it!"

Fudge gently places my wand back into the box. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid there is too much evidence against you," he says, not looking sorry in the least. "I have no other choice but to sentence you based on the facts that we, the Wizengamot, have been informed of. You're history speaks for itself, and you have long been under suspicion as far as this court is concerned."

I feel myself slowly sink back onto the hard bench beside Draco.

"But…they're not even all here….this isn't a fair trial…" I say weakly, feeling as though everything is crashing down all around me.

Draco shifts over and takes a hold of my hand. I barely notice.

"Harry's right," Remus suddenly says loudly, standing, "this isn't a fair hearing."

Fudge appraises Remus with dislike. "When evidence of this nature has been collected, I'm afraid it leaves us with little choice."

"What choice?" I whisper, my voice wobbling with fear.

Fudge's distant brown eyes return to stare down at me with the same contempt he obviously holds for Remus.

"I have no other choice, Harry Potter, but to sentence you to Azkaban."

I open my mouth as gasps fill the room, but no sound emerges. Everyone is suddenly yelling all at once, and Fudge tries desperately to regain some semblance of control.

Draco pulls me to him and grips me tightly. "I won't let them, Harry," he whispers with determination. "I won't let them take you."

I blink and, as if in a daze, pull away from Draco and stand, looking to the flustered Fudge. The room quiets, waiting for me to speak.

"Does that mean…Draco's free?" I ask.

Fudge readjusts his robes and shifts his gaze to Draco. "Well…yes. He must be declared innocent of all charges and released. He is free to go."

"No…" Draco stands beside me and roughly takes me by the shoulders to turn me towards him. "Harry…"

I can see the pain in his face and I am sorry for that. I reach out and stroke a finger down his cheek.

"You're free," I whisper, so only he can hear. I can't stop the tears from welling up as I look into his eyes.

"You can't go to Azkaban, Harry," Draco whispers fiercely. "I won't let them."

I close my eyes bracingly, trying not to think of that place. That place of nightmares that strikes fear into the heart of all wizard kind. "Maybe I'll see Amari," I say finally, my voice trembling beyond my control.

Draco's face changes suddenly, a dawning in his eyes.

"What?" I say, wiping the tears from my face on my sleeve.

Draco merely looks at me for a second, then turns to face the Minister.

"Minister?"

"What is it?" he asks in irritation, impatient to get on with the proceedings.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see two Ministry officials approaching me with a pair of handcuffs. Unconsciously, I sink to my knees and wish for death instead of this. Anything but this.

Draco's voice becomes urgent. "Minister, I have a confession to make."

"Yes?"

Draco gathers his strength and lifts his chin. "_I_ did it."

My head snaps up and I stare at him open-mouthed.

"Did what?" Fudge asks slowly, eyes narrowing.

"I did it – I killed Severus Snape."

"You're lying…"

"I stole Harry's wand and then used my own to kill Snape the morning of our graduation party. I wanted Harry to take the blame – but he didn't have anything to do with it. It was me. He's innocent."

The room is deathly silent. The two officials are now at my side, gazing uncertainly up at Fudge, waiting. My heart is in my throat, my pulse racing -

"But how was the Killing curse found in Mr Potter's wand then?"

Draco's hands are clenched by his side. "I could only use Harry's wand for small doses of magic, or strong magic on small objects. I used his wand to kill two birds before hiding it away to be found later, so it would appear as though he'd used the curse on Snape."

Fudge glances to his left at one of his many assistants busily scribbling notes. "Bring me that photograph of the crime scene."

A tall, skinny wizard, eager to please, leaps out of his seat as though burned and hurries from the room. In a matter of seconds, he returns with a sheaf of photographs. Fudge takes them from his assistant and flips through them, searching. He finally stops at one and stares at it.

"May the court bear witness to the fact that there are two dead birds lying by the deceased's body," he declares grimly.

I close my eyes and shake my head, still more tears falling from between wet lashes.

"This is still not enough to condemn a man…" Fudge starts slowly. "We do not have in our possession your wand, Mr Malfoy."

"I know," Draco nods gravely. "But you have my word – I swear to you that this is the truth. Harry Potter is innocent."

I open my eyes and look to Fudge, holding my breath.

Finally, Fudge nods, looking severe. "All charges will be henceforth relegated to Draco Lucius Malfoy. A sentence of imprisonment in Azkaban for life is the pronouncement. Harry James Potter is released."

"NO!" I shout suddenly, getting to my feet and taking hold of Draco. "You can't do this!"

Draco puts his arms around me.

"You're not guilty," I whisper into his ear with conviction. "I know it. You didn't do it."

Draco holds me close and pets my hair with affection. "I love you, Harry."

"No," I sob, fisting my hands in his shirt. "Don't say that - this isn't goodbye!"

All around us, the court is in a flurry of activity; Fudge has ordered the rest of the Wizengamot contingent to join them for the final pronouncement, as it can only be finalized with the entire group present. Remus is still arguing with Fudge, the media is in a craze; flashing pictures and shouting questions at us.

We don't hear any of it. It is only the two of us, just as it was in the Box.

"You can't go to Azkaban, Harry," Draco says soothingly into my ear. "You have a war to win – for all of us."

"But…I don't want to leave without you," I choke, pulling back slightly to look into his face.

He smiles softly and strokes my fringe back from my forehead. "Let me do the right thing for once, Harry. All my life I've played the villain, let me be the hero – just this once."

"No," I put my head back on his shoulder, fresh tears soaking the fabric of his dirty grey uniform. "Don't do this. Please. We'll find another way…"

"Harry," Draco's voice is quiet and strong, determined. "Remember the name Amari gave me?"

"Uzoma?" I reply, sniffling.

He nods. "Yes, do you remember what it means?"

"Of course," I say, my heart dropping. "The right road…"

He smiles and rocks me a little from side to side. "I think he knew, Harry."

I can only shake my head in mute refusal, my hands clenching in his shirt and my arms tight around his warm and familiar body.

"This is the right road, Harry. This is what I have to do, to allow you to do what _you_ have to do."

It is then that I know he is right. I can't be locked away or Voldemort will win, this is bigger than just me and Draco. Defeating Voldemort is _my_ path.

"I won't let them keep you there for long," I say with conviction. "When this is all over, I will make them set you free. I will find out who really killed Professor Snape."

"How do you know it wasn't me?" Draco asks, voice muffled in my hair.

"Because."

Draco smiles and drops a kiss on my head.

The rest of the Wizengamot is now present, and Fudge is speaking, reading out Draco's sentence and making it official.

As the guards prepare to place Draco in their custody, I quickly kiss him one last time. Vainly trying to memorize the feel of his lips on mine, so that I won't forget – ever. In the dark times to come, I'll remember what it is I'm fighting for.

The sudden sound of locking metal causes me to jump as they bind Draco's wrists together in handcuffs.

"I love you," I say in a rush, not wanting him to leave before I can tell him.

"I know."

He smiles at me and then they lead him away.

I crumple to my knees, watching his back as they take him from the room – and from me. Remus walks to my side and places a consolatory hand on my shoulder. I can't even fathom what this will mean; not seeing him or touching him or even talking to him for…for I don't know how long. Maybe forever…

I don't even remember leaving Grace. I don't know if it was sunny or raining when I stepped out of those doors and walked with Remus to a nearby Apparation sight…

_You'd think I'd remember every detail of becoming a free man once more, but all I could think about was him. Draco made the ultimate sacrifice, and whatever happened with me and the war after that, would be because of him. That much I was sure of._


	24. Harry's Epilogue

That was the last time I saw Draco Malfoy. It's been almost two years since that day, two years of fighting in this godforsaken war, against a monster that will not die. I have my suspicions about Snape's murder. I know that it was set up to frame me, so that I would be out of the way. Draco getting caught up in it all was just an accident, I'm sure of it. I also have my suspicions about Malcolm Braddock's role in the whole thing, but there's no way I can prove anything. I've not seen Malcolm since that day in court. He's probably deep into Death Eater activities now, too deep to surface anymore. If I ever meet that bastard again, I will kill him without a second thought.

I live with Remus now. Two outcasts simply striving to survive from day to day. Jack and his wife visit us once and awhile, and I enjoy our time together very much. It was painful at first, because it reminded me of Draco, but now I've realized that I can't just shut out my memories of him to numb the pain, that would be like forgetting him, and I won't do that.

I work every day to find Voldemort and to end this once and for all. It's my only goal, my only purpose right now. I have trouble sleeping nights, Draco haunts both my nightmares and my dreams, but Remus is helping me. I don't know what I'd do without him.

I've seen Ron and Hermione once since my return, and they ignored me completely. I find I like it that way. Most of the wizarding community ignores me. Sometimes I want to scream at them, tell them that I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort. Without me they'd be fucked. But I don't. My only hope is that when the time comes, I can make them release Draco for my part in getting rid of the Dark Lord.

Draco was right about one thing though; there are a lot of closeted wizards. Once and awhile one will come up to me and simply thank me, not saying for what or with very many words, but it's there in their eyes and their smile.

Draco is still my love and my life, he's in everything I do. Amari named us both appropriately; Draco chose the 'right road' and I will live up to my name as well – Bakari: 'one who will succeed'.

I made a promise to Draco, I _will_ get him out of there…

_  
Though this world tears us apart,  
we're still together in my heart  
I want the world to hear my cry  
and even if I have to die,  
love will not die -  
love will change the world_

. - Will Jennings -


End file.
